Nights With Matches and Knives
by My American Fictionary
Summary: Mount Aso, 1961: A small detail overlooked decides the final battle with Nobunaga in favour of the Uesugi. Ten years later, Kagetora is hiding from his father's wrath while Naoe sets out to regain his stolen memories… AU, NaoexKagetora
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Mirage of Blaze, Kubawara Mizuna does.

**Author's Note: **I know I should work on an update for "All Honesty", but that's easier said then done right now :-( Anyway, a recent discussion at the Mirage livejournal community drew my attention towards the Minako incident and the fight against Oda years prior to MoB. And I was wondering: What would have happened if Kagetora and Naoe both had survived the last battle at Mount Aso? What would Kagetora have done about the unborn child?

Btw, Mpreg stories never work for me – this really is the only context where I can imagine such a thing happening.

The title is from _Blood and Fire_ by Indigo Girls.

~For Haruna-Hakkai~

**Nights With Matches and Knives**

(1961)

The salvage teams had been at work for several hours. At the foot of the mountain, Dr. Shimura Ichiro was smoking one cigarette after another. He had come with the team of paramedics which had been called to tend to the injured should there be any. Ashes were flying with the wind; a smoke cloud obscuring the nightly firmament over Aso.

The mountain was quiet now. The eruption around midnight had been short and violent. Of course, there had been campers. There alyways were campers when such a thing happened, whether streams bursted their banks, avalanches were speeding down from the mountains or – volcanoes broke out.

They had found two bodies, a man and a woman. Another man later on. The eruption probably had surprised them in their sleep. Shimura couldn't even blame them for irresponsibility. It had been decades since the grounds of Mount Aso had last been shaken. There had been no warnings recently, no indication whatsoever for something like this to happen. Dr. Shimura could only record their deaths from rockfall or plunges.

There had also been two survivors. A man of approximately fourty years of age; a trained doctor who promptly proved a nuisance by starting to give the paramedics instructions as to how to apply his bandages. Dr. Shimura left him to his colleague and checked on the other person the salvage teams had brought down from the mountain.

Number Two was a woman apparently in her late twenties – a thin, pretty creature whose tousled black hair fell down her narrow back like a cataract. Her skirt was torn and there were bruises on her knees, but otherwise, and inexplicably so, she seemed completely unharmed.

Contrary to the male patient, she was walking on her own two legs down the mountain slope and didn't have to be carried on a stretcher. But there was something weird about the way she moved. Something… artificial, Shimura thought, in lack of a better expression. As if she were unused to walking. Or moving. He shook his head.

The woman had obviously had a shock. Of course, her movements would be ungainly.

He helped her into the ambulance car where he made her sit down and held a pocket lamp near her eyes to check the pupil reactions. In spite of everything, Dr. Shimura didn't fail to notice just how extraordinarily beautiful those eyes were.

Almond-shaped, like a golden and brown caleidoscope.

They were clouded as if drawn to something inside her mind rather than to what was going on around her. But the pupils reacted normally to the light. That didn't keep her from keeling over as soon as she tried to stand up again. Dr. Shimura cursed under his breath and called for help. They carefully laid her on the stretcher.

"Why is she wearing a skirt anyway?" one of the nurses whispered. "A skirt for camping?"

It seemed strange, Dr. Shimura agreed. Neither she nor her unnerving companion were dressed in sleeping clothes although the eruption of the volcano had occurred in the middle of the night.

"Sensei, did you see that?" the nurse asked him, drawing his attention towards the woman's belly.

Dr. Shimura frowned. The wide clothes had hidden the slight bulge earlier. Carefully he removed the clothing to take a closer look.

"Fourth month," he estimated. "Maybe fifth."

So. Possibly the woman hadn't fallen unconscious because of some internal injury but due to a qualm resulting from her avanced pregnancy. Anyway, she would need rest now – or she would stand to lose the unborn.

Shimura pointed at a glass of capsules. "Give her one of those when she comes to. We shall take her to the hospital as soon as possible."

He looked at the deathly pale face again. What had she gone through this night? Had she lost the child's father up there? Dr. Shimura decided to ask their other patient about her. Arriving at the other ambulance car, he nearly collided with his young colleague Dr. Fujisaki. The man apologized but continued shaking his head as he gestured towards their patient.

"Maybe you can talk some sense into the man. His name is Sasaki…"

"Dr. Sasaki," came the friendly reply from the inside.

"Dr. Sasaki", Fujisaki stressed, "believes we should just let him be on his way. No x-rays. No supervision. He thinks he can board his train back to Tokyo in a few hours. Good luck," he added. "I need a smoke."

Shimura grimaced when he climbed into the car. Sasaki was sitting on a folding chair and was watching him quietly. He was a slender-looking man with a keen, intelligent face. Apart from his left arm which had been put into a Y-sling, he appeared to be in good shape. His exhaustion – reflected only in his eyes – seemed not physical, but emotional.

It was then, that it struck Dr. Shimura that neither of the two patients showed any of the behaviour typical for what they were: survivors of a natural catastrophe. Their bearing – both the young woman's and Dr. Sasaki's – much more reminded him of the soldiers he had known during the war, of people trained to endure extreme situations. Who were those two?

"Dr. Sasaki," he greeted. "A pleasure. But I don't know the name of your female companion yet. Who is she?"

That simple question for some reason caused Sasaki to stare at him wide-eyed for a moment and then start choking.

"She – " he murmured. "She's… not dead?"

"No. She's almost fine. So is the baby."

Sasaki seemed thunderstruck. After a few seconds he lowered his head and rubbed his palms over his face which had turned ashen. _"Namu-amida-butsu…"_

Dr. Shimura frowned. This was hardly the appropriate reaction to such relatively good news. "Are you not happy that she lived? What is her name?"

Sasaki stared at him again. He opened and closed his mouth, then shook his head as if unwilling to believe what was happening. "Kitazato Minako," he said finally.

"Kitazato-san fainted a few minutes ago, but we found no injuries. Of course, we have to take the two of you to the hospital now for thorough check-ups – "

Sasaki became lively all of a sudden. "Listen, ahm, sensei. I'm a doctor myself. I know that I will be all right, so why won't you just let me take my antibiotics for the next few days and leave me to my own care?"

Doctors turned patients were a nightmare, Dr. Shimura thought not for the first time and drew a deep breath.

"And while we are at it," Sasaki added, "I shall see to Minako-san as well."

_He's__ been wearing a jacket,_ Dr. Shimura noticed all of a sudden. _Why a jacket of all things?_ They hadn't been camping up there. Or how come they both were dressed as if for work and definitely not for outdoor activities? They would have to answer some questions once they had gone through their check-ups at Aso Central Hospital.

"We've found one!" they suddenly heard from outside. "We've found another one!"

Dr. Shimura exchanged looks with Sasaki. Both men hastily got out of the ambulance car. The salvage team had found a third person. A man, the worst case of the three. Shimura could see his head loll to the side when his stretcher was set to the ground.

"Ichiro-san," the head of the paramedics team called out to him. "Take the man and the woman to the clinic already."

"Let me see who it is first," Sasaki whispered to him.

Shimura nodded. Sasaki could probably indentify another camping mate for them. They stepped a little closer. The young man on the stretcher was white as a sheet. Both legs and several ribs broken as well as a concussion was the diagnosis.

"Can you tell us his name?" Shimura asked while his colleagues were already tending to the injured.

Sasaki didn't avert his eyes from the lifeless figure. "Kasahara," he said, his voice like sand paper. "Kasahara Yuuto." He wasn't asking whether his friend would make it.

"Come, Sasaki-sensei," Dr. Shimura said. "I'll take you to Kitazato-san."

~*~

On the way to the hospital, Sasaki and Kitazato were huddling together, undisturbed by the paramedics who all for some reason or another seemed preoccuppied with other things, their backs turned towards the two patients. Dr. Shimura got ready to step in and tell the personnel off, but something made him keep quiet and listen to the whispered conversation of the patients instead.

"What happened when he stroke against you?"

Kitazato remained quiet. She had come to a while earlier, but was still lying on the stretcher. Sasaki was leaning against the edge.

"I saw," Sasaki pressed. "He sent his _hankonha _right towards where you and –"

She raised her left underarm at this – a strangely angular movement. She stared at her own hand, at the slightly curled fingers.

"She's left-handed," was her whole response. For the first time, Shimura heard her voice. "When he attacked, I automatically stepped to the wrong side. Nobunaga didn't expect that." She paused. "I didn't either…"

Nobunaga? Someone had attacked her up there?

Kitazato was moving her slender fingers as if deep in thought. "She saved me."

"She saved you both," Sasaki answered in a heavy voice.

Kitazato's downcast gaze returned to him quickly. She then propped herself up on an ellbow to stare at him more thoroughly.

Sasaki nodded. "They just brought him. Both legs, but he's alive…"

The new arrival? Was he her husband? But she seemed anything but pleased at the news that he was alive… Shimura watched how Kitazato started to run a hand through her hair, then stopped herself all of a sudden and carefully put her arm down on the stretcher again.

"I know… what to do," she whispered. "I thought of it when we were getting to the top of the mountain, but then I let that opportunity slip."

"Allow yourself some rest, Kagetora-sama," Sasaki answered. "You're in no condition to work such consumptive an incantation."

"But I'm in no condition for anything and how will tomorrow be any different?" She laughed humourlessly. "I can't even be sure whether this stupid _kekkai_ will actually serve its purpose and hold off any eavesdroppers."

Dr. Shimura drew back as if caught.

_Kekkai? _He frowned.

~*~

At Aso Central Hospital, Sasaki and Kitazato were examined more thoroughly and put to bed with slight sedatives when no serious injuries were found. When Kasahara was being brought in, the sun was rising already. They took him straight to the operating suite where he emerged from three hours later to be put into a recovery room. Instructions were given to Shimura to look after him every couple of hours.

There was no end to the inherent strangeness of the whole affair, though. Around midday, Shimura opened the door to the recovery room and found himself looking at an impossible scene.

Kitazato Minako who was supposed to be sleeping under sedatives was standing next to Kasahara's bed. How had she gotten here so quickly? How had she known where to look for him?

Kasahara's eyes were open. Shimura couldn't believe it. Those anaesthetics would have put a bear to sleep! How could he be awake after not even a couple of hours?

Kasahara was moving restlessly on the bed when Kitazato bend over him, her eyes boring directly into his. She seemed to be murmuring something under her breath. Kasahara tried to rouse himself from the pillow, but it was too late. His face grimaced when an invisible force pinned him to the matress.

Kitazato's fine features were distorted with an emotion Shimura could only classify as raw, pure hatred and the effort of… what? A kind of spell? A Buddhist incantation? There were people nowadays still which knew how practise this kind of techniques. Shimura felt the hairs on the back of neck rise, though, when he looked into Kitazato's determined face. Whatever she was doing – she wasn't doing it to help the man on the bed.

It took about fifteen seconds. Then Kasahara's eyes closed and he lay completely still again.

Kitazato slumped. She was breathing heavily as if she had been running some miles. For a moment, she covered her face with both hands.

Afraid that she would faint again, Shimura stepped towards her. "Kitazato-san", he whispered.

She spun around so quickly as if to belie her apparent exhaustion. Even in the dim light of the recovery room, her eyes glittered like a wild animal's.

Involuntarily, Shimura did a step back. For a moment, he was convinced that she would attack him. But then, she blinked as if suddenly remembering where she was and why.

Shimura came closer. "What were you doing to him?" he whispered.

A flash like lightening erupted in the depths of her eyes.

"What was _I_ – ? _Me?_" she hissed, then seemed to be taken over by fatigue. She staggered and touched the unconscious Kasahara's arm. Immediately, she drew back her hand as if she had burned it.

Shimura carefully grasped her upper arm to both stabilize her balance and draw her away from the sick bed. He could see now that her eyes were red-rimmed as from exhaustion or from unshed tears. Shimura's gaze wandered to the unconscious Kasahara's face. What had this man done to become the object of such unadultered loathing? And what had she been doing just now that didn't allow to be delayed?

"What were you doing to him?" he asked again.

Without changing her posture, Kitazato returned his gaze. "You needn't trouble yourself with that."

Taken aback by the calm authority in her voice, Shimura couldn't help but once again notice the mismatch between her delicate appearance and the harsh spirit manifesting in her words and actions. In an attempt perhaps to restore the actual order between doctor and patient, he cleared his throat. "You shouldn't be here. He needs rest."

Kitazato showed no reaction to that, just let herself be led from the room. Whatever had taken possession of her a second ago – her task here was fulfilled. Her thoughts seemed already preoccuppied with other things.

She didn't cast another look at the unconscious figure on the bed.

~*~

He was taking Kitazato back to her ward in order to hand the responsibility for her staying where she was supposed to over to the ward sister. They found her in the medical cabinet. It happened while he started to explain the situation to her and turned his back on Kitazato for a few seconds.

"Watch it!" the nurse cried. Dr. Shimura spun around just in time to see Kitazato press the edge of a scalpel with both hands against her jugular vein. He literally had to jump towards her to get it away from her in time.

They stared at each other. The scalpel clattered to the floor.

A fine red line appeared on the ivory skin of her neck. A sound erupted from deep inside her chest, something very akin to laughter.

_Hysterics,_ Dr. Shimura thought and grabbed her arm a bit more strongly although she didn't try to free herself. A nurse appeared next to them with a filled syringe.

Kitazato had noticed, too, what was going on. She narrowed her eyes and murmured something to herself. Dr. Shimura had to make an effort to understand the words and even then, he was flustered whether he had heard correctly.

"Not my day…"

She wasn't struggling. Her beautiful, stressed gaze wandered from the syringe to Dr. Shimura's face. _I'll do it again,_ the cat-like eyes said even while the needle penetrated her flesh. _Just you turn your back on me. _

He caught her when the anaesthetic instantly made an impact. Carrying her towards her hospital bed, he couldn't get a hold of his racing thoughts.

Kitazato didn't seem like a person depressed or sick of life. She had just come out of a life-threatening situation – how and why would she try to kill herself? What she had just been trying to do contradicted each and every psychology textbook ever written.

"Why," the nurse stuttered while she tended to the slight wound on Kitazato's neck. "I never… And she's pregnant, too! What can this girl haven been thinking?"

Shimura didn't have an answer to that. There had been an edge of _desperation _to Kitazato's actions, but she hadn't been _desperate_. More like someone who is finishing up a task. The pose she had struck when she had set the knife against her skin reminded him of something. A memory rose to the surface, drawings in a book, the life of the old days…

_Jigai…_

He shook his head. Now all of this was very strange.

And the strangest part probably concerned Kitazato's heavily injured friend whom she had visited right before her attempt to kill herself. What had she been doing there? And why had Kasahara appeared to be awake for the shortest of time? Or had all this been an illusion?

~*~

At five o'clock in the evening, they informed him that Kasahara had come to. Shimura lost no time and went to see to him. Kasahara was lying in bed with his head propped against a pillow. He was still deathly pale, but his eyes immediately sought out Shimura when the doctor came through the door.

"Good day, Kasahara-san." The man didn't react to his greeting. "You are at Aso Central Hospital with two broken legs, a slight concussion and several broken ribs which is why you might be in pain breathing," Shimura proceeded in a businesslike way as he came closer and leaned against the foot end of the bed. "Is there somebody you would like us to call? A family member?"

Kasahara continued to stare at him. "Aso…"

"Yes, you are in Aso. A salvage team found you on the mountain after the eruption. We brought you straight here. That was about twelve hours ago." Shimura cocked his head. "Were you camping up there?"

The man looked completely at a loss. "I don't know… about a mountain."

A memory lapse? Shimura raised his brows. Well, such a thing wasn't exactly uncommon when someone had suffered from a concussion. The brain just blanked out the events which had led to the injury.

"Mount Aso," he said amiably. "Do you remember making preparations for a trip? You are not from this region, are you?"

"No, I…" The man paused again, his face a picture of intense concentration.

Shimura let him think a feew minutes, then decided it was no good. He tried to steer his thoughts into a more general direction. "Kasahara-san, what is the last thing you remember?"

The reaction was astounding. At one moment, his patient frowned in concentration, at the next, pain flickered through his features. Kasahara groaned. His uninjured hand shot to his forhead as if to block his anguish.

Intrigued, Shimura took a few steps closer to his patient and leaned against the edge of the bed. "You _are_ Kasahara Yuuto, right?" he inquired softly.

The man narrowed his eyes at him, then let his gaze drop to the blanket which covered his body. "I…" He man shook his head. "I'm sorry, I…"

Shimura didn't need an actual answer. He had never come across this kind of thing before but he knew instantly what they were dealing with. He wasn't even surprised. What had caused Kasahara to lose his memory was just one more bead in a long chain of mysteries that the last twenty-four hours had provided Shimura with.

The know-it-all doctor who seemed upset at the fact that someone had actually survived the catastrophe.

The suicidal pregnant woman with the hate-filled eyes that emitted such an uncanny power.

And the tall fellow with the broken bones who apparently suffered from a _real, live case of amnesia._

What on earth had those people been doing up there on the mountain at midnight in business clothing?

They sure made the strangest clientele Aso Central Hospital had come across in a very long time.

~*~

**Author's Note:** I'm interested: What's your opinion? What do you think Kagetora would have done in this situation?

I'm not sure yet whether this is a one-shot with an open ending or if and how the story will continue.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **Here is the second part. Enjoy :-)

To Haruna-Hakkai again, thanks for the inspiration!

**Nights With Matches and Knives**

**CHAPTER TWO**

Something just didn't add up.

In the aftermath of the eruption of the Nakadake volcano on Mount Aso, cleaning-up operations and the search for survivors had been launched. During the three days to follow, they had found seven bodies altogether. Six men and one woman.

There had been three survivors, all of them discovered by the salvage teams within a few hours after the eruption. Two of them had testified that all of them had been up on the mountain for camping.

Of these alleged campers, some had been dressed in comfortable clothes fit for hiking, some hadn't. Among the items they were dressed in had been suits, leather shoes, a skirt… Not a single tent or sleeping bag had been found, though.

But the most troublesome discovery had been made by the forensics team. Some of the people found dead, indisputably, had died several hours prior to the eruption of Nakadake.

/\/

"What were you doing in Kasahara-san's room two days ago?" Dr. Shimura asked and looked at his patient who was sitting on the other side of his desk. Kitazato was clad in a hospital pyjama under a light dressing gown. The tiny wound on her neck had almost healed so the gauze had been taken off.

The midday sun was being reflected from the white walls, illuminating her face. Most people would have looked washed-out like this. She didn't. The slanting, golden brown eyes practically seemed to absorb the light.

„Isn't it obvious?" Kitazato asked.

They had tied her to her bed for the last 48 hours except when she was taking her meals which she did with no noticeable enthusiasm. They made an effort to keep any sharp objetcs from her as well as things you could form a sling with. Even now, she was under constant surveillance. She looked rested, having been unable to do much other than sleeping during the last two days.

The personnel on her ward reported that she was behaving herself well. No fits, no crying, no aggressiveness whatsoever. Only when it came to taking her sedatives, she had been very adamant that she didn't want them.

When he didn't answer, she continued. "I was hoping, you had found my husband."

Her husband was most likely among the dead bodies yet to be identified. Shimura hadn't had the stomach to drag her down into the morgue for this less than desirable task.

"When I saw that it wasn't him on the bed, I'm afraid I got a little upset…" Kitazato trailed off.

_Upset enough to try and kill yourself?__ With a knife of all things? _"You were instantly convinced that he must be dead?"

"When I was brought to the ambulance car, I could see the covered bodies… Yes, for some reason I was convinced that he must be among them."

Shimura changed the subject. "How do you know Kasahara-san?"

"I don't," she said. When he merely looked at her in reply, she continued: "I didn't until a couple of days ago. We met him and a few other people on Mount Aso. I was there with my husband and Sasaki-san."

"What was it like?" He shifted in his chair, "The trip, I mean."

"Relaxing," she said, never once loosening her cramped shoulders. "A bit colder than I had been expecting, but by no means unbearable."

Involuntarily, his gaze flickered towards her hands, half-hidden under the long pajama sleeves. Was that why she had insisted on wearing pajamas instead of a night gown? To cover the black and blue spots on her skin? One of the nurses had noticed on them and immediately called him in.

Around Kitazato's exquisitely-turned wrists wound bruises as if from manacles.

As if somebody had held her prisoner.

/\/

Kasahara Yuuto still wasn't able to make use of his own name. He couldn't testify to his date and place of birth, his family status or his profession. He showed no sign of recognition whatsoever at what he saw in the mirror when he was being handed one. Kasahara was a stranger to himself.

Naming the capital of Japan, the three basic colours and the Four Noble Truths of Buddhism proved less of a problem. He knew how to tune a radio and how to use a typewriter. He could read English and a little bit of German. Shimura himself had been able to convince himself that his amnesiac patient was an excellent chess player.

Also, Kasahara was equipped with a sheer encyclopaedic knowledge of history. He spoke of the era of the warring states, the Tokugawa period and the Russo-Japanese war as if he had been there himself. When his file arrived from Nagasaki, Shimura therefore expected to find the biography of a historian or a man of letters, but his patient had a university degree in political economics of all things.

No parents. No children. His wife had died from a terminal disease a couple of years ago. There hadn't been any reports on him being missing.

Kasahara seemed as alone in this world as one could be.

When Shimura suggested that Sasaki should come into the morgue with him and identify the bodies, Kitazato insisted on accompanying them. Shimura thought this a less than wise idea, but found himself trapped in her gaze, unable to refuse her request.

After all Shimura had seen of her, he didn't expect her to break down and cry, but the icy restraint she showed when the sheet was lifted from her husband's still face made a shiver run down his spine. It was more than composure that she was exhibiting. It was apathy.

Could she really be that careless towards the dead man, the father of her child? Shimura had to think of what his mother had once told him and what had provided him with an insight into his parents' relationship he easily could have done without. _No woman can be completely indifferent towards the man whose child she is carrying. _

He couldn't help but compare the silent acceptance Kitazato was displaying now with the burning hatred she had showed looking at Kasahara two days prior.

"May we see the others?" her controlled voice interrupted his thoughts.

Shimura was startled at the unexpected request, but Sasaki didn't as much as bat an eye. He was about to say no, but a weird curiosity about what they would reveal when they were being shown the others prevailed.

The forensics were giving him strange looks, but got the rest of the bodies when he asked them to. Sasaki and Kitazato were walking along the lined-up stretchers in silence – he on one side of the row, she on the other. Only when they reached the last of them, their eyes met.

"Is that everyone you found?" Sasaki asked in a low voice, without unlocking his gaze from Kitazato's.

"That is them all, yes."

"There wasn't a teenage boy?" Sasaki pressed, flicking Shimura a look. "About 16, slender, brown hair?"

"Have you seen somebody like this up there?"

Again, Shimura watched his patients exchange a look.

"Yes," Kitazato said. Her eyes were narrowed. "Has the search been called off already?"

"Well, yes."

"You haven't found one person, then. Would it be possible for Sasaki-sensei to go back to Nakadake with the salvage teams and show them where we last saw him?" Her voice was devoid of any passion.

Shimura hesitated, looking to Sasaki as if for help against the assertiveness the young woman displayed. But the other doctor was watching him calmly from his place a step behind Kitazato, visibly aligning himself with her.

Shimura still hadn't gained true insight into their relationship, but it was her, obviously, who was giving the orders here, he thought and instantly wondered what made him choose these words.

Kitazato was interpreting his silence wrongly. "I'll stay here, of course," she said in a soft voice as if trying to calm him.

Shimura looked from one to the other. "All right," he finally said. "I'll talk to them."

/\/

Sasaki had been to visit Kasahara once or twice since they had both come to the hospital. Shimura who hadn't been present both times didn't know what they had spoken about, but apparently, Kasahara didn't recognize the doctor had met only a few days prior.

Although he hadn't been assigned to the case himself, Shimura had done some additional reading on loss of memory as a medicinal phenomenon. It actually wasn't uncommon in cases of amnesia that what should have been the freshest memories would come back last. Sometimes, patients would first come up with rememberances from their childhood, their growing-up, very elementary things. As if they had to rediscover their whole existence chronologically.

"Why don't you take the woman to him for once," Fujisaki suggested. "Maybe she'll ring a bell with him."

"I asked her. She won't come." In a way, he was grateful for that. He hadn't forgotten the sinister scene displayed before his eyes when Kitazato had last been in Kasahara's room. Who could know what would happen if he took her there again…

Besides, Kasahara needed rest and as little distraction as possible from his efforts to remember. Not that he could complain about a lack of attention even without visitors. Some of the nurses were quite smitten with him, Shimura had noticed, treating him with much more attentiveness than they would other patients.

Shimura could see where they were coming from. There was something charming about their amnesiac patient, something winsome. It seemed like a paradox that in spite of his vulnerable state of mind Kasahara would radiate this kind of presence. Wisdom and serenity. Like an old soul in a youthful body.

It was hard to imagine what he could have done to provoke a woman's wrath, but Shimura remained sceptical about what Kitazato claimed to be her motivation for seeking out Kasahara the other night. There was only one thing he was certain of: she hated Kasahara. Abysmally so.

Trespassing the ward she was in, Shimura decided to quickly check on her.

Kitazato was sleeping when he entered the room, curled up on the bed in her pajamas, the blanket shoved to the foot end. Her ink-coloured hair was spilling over the white linen of the pillow. She had turned her face half into the mattress – reticent even in her sleep as if outright refusing any kind of care or sympathy. Both her arms, he noticed, were wrapped tightly around her abdomen.

It seemed an odd, unconscious gesture, considering that only two days ago she had been on the verge of killing both herself and the unborn.

No, Shimura thought. He was definitely not taking her to Kasahara.

Outside of her room, he told the ward sister: "Please send her to me when she wakes up." There were a few more questions he wanted to ask her.

He was almost on his way, when the sister stopped him. "Sensei," she started. "I must say she's… awfully small for fifth month."

Shimura wrinkled his forehead. "What do you mean by that?"

"I've seen this kind of thing before," she shook her head. "Girls in difficulties who bound their belly so no one would notice… I know, Kitazato-san was married and everything, but – I just thought I should mention it."

She'd been trying to hide the pregnancy. _But from whom?_ Shimura wondered while he reassured the nurse that she had done the right thing in notifying him. It became more and more obvious that of the three survivors, Kitazato was the pivotal element – she and her unborn child. There were indeed a few questions he had to ask her.

/\/

"What are you keeping us here for?"

Kitazato seemed to grow slightly impatient with the way things were progressing. She was wearing street clothing now – sneakers, a blouse and a woollen vest. Trousers, on that she had insisted. Her hair was still a bit moist from the bath she had been given, under surveillance as usual. They didn't trust her to be in the shower cabin on her own.

"Because you're a suicide candidate, and Sasaki-sensei preferred to stay as long as we wouldn't let you go as well."

"I'm surprised he's playing along," she said openly. "He's got better things to do than idly sit around until you might feel inclined to send me off."

"He's obviously fond of you." When she didn't reply to that, he said: "We haven't found the teenager you told us about."

"So I heard." From Sasaki, no doubt.

"We didn't find any camping equipment either, by the way." He kept his eyes glued to her. "No tents, no sleeping bags – or remnants of such."

"Is that so?" Kitazato raised a delicate brow. "Maybe your people weren't looking thoroughly enough?"

"Maybe they didn't find any equipment, because there never was any?"

"Of course, the equipment is there. Where do you suggest we put it during –"

She stopped mid-sentence. A long-fingered hand descended towards her abdomen and came to rest on the slight bulge which she apparently had taken such efforts to hide during the first months of the pregnancy.

19th week, they had established. It wasn't surprising that she felt it move.

She had cast her eyes downwards, but there was wide range of emotions showing on her face before she managed to force them down by taking a deep breath. Disbelief, shock, wonder, regret, the irritation of a trapped animal and finally, an all-consuming loneliness.

Her next question took him by surprise, though. "How is Kasahara-san?" she asked.

"He can't remember," Shimura said. "Not just about the incident, but not even his own name."

"Yes, Sasaki-sensei told me about his amnesia. But he also has both his legs broken, doesn't he? Will he be all right?"

"I should think so. The fractures have been reduced with after we found him. It will take some time until he can walk again, but there were no complications."

Her eyes were searching in his face as if mistrusting his statements. Shimura checked the file on his desk which had been sent from Tokyo. "Here it says that you have a medical background."

"I was training to be a doctor."

"Is that where you know Sasaki-sensei from?"

"No, he was a friend of my husband's. That's how I knew him."

"Which field were you going to specialize in?"

"Psychiatry," she said mechanically. "Traumata."

"Kitazato-san," he said, leaning forward and putting his elbows on his knees, "tell me your opinion as a psychiatrist, as a specialist for traumata: a young woman pregnant with her first child goes on a camping trip with her husband and a close friend. When they are caught in the middle of a volcano eruption, her husband loses his life. No tears, no hysterics – she just grabs the next scalpel and tries to cut her throat. Do you find something strange about this?"

Her eyes – narrowed while he spoke – returned to the file on his desk. "Some suggest that personal tragedy schools people in handling extraordinary situations."

Right. The file also stated that her whole family – father, mother and to small sisters – had died in a gas explosion about a year ago. She was letting him know that she suspected he knew about that.

He raised his brows. "Do you subscribe to this theory?"

She frowned. "I don't like people being expected to behave in a certain way under certain circumstances and then call it typical. I take the view that humans can show miscelleanous reactions to catastrophes. You cannot know your patients well enough to judge having met them only in such an extreme situation."

He nodded. "You've obviously done some thinking on the subject."

"Sensei," she said carefully, leaning slightly forward in her chair, "what are you suspecting me of? Frankly, I've seen cross-examinations on TV that weren't half as thorough."

"I'd like to know what you're thinking. To make sure you're not trying to harm yourself again."

"I won't," she answered a little bit too quickly.

Shimura wasn't impressed. "You know, it's a small miracle that you made it through the whole incident without miscarrying."

Kitazato remained silent.

"Were you happy about the pregnancy?" he asked.

Her eye-lids fluttered ever so slightly. _Gotcha,_ he couldn't help thinking.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Kitazato asked, her patience obviously wearing thin.

"I'm just trying to get an idea of your life, of your interiority. From your unnatural calmness right after the incident to your try at suicide, your behaviour contradicts just about everything that was ever written about catastrophe survivors. Frankly, you don't seem like a suicidal person to me, so I was wondering whether the attempt could be rooted in –"

"Yes," she interrupted him.

"Your pardon?"

"Yes, I was happy about the pregnancy. I still am. I always wanted a child. I missed having one in my life for far too long." Her eyes were burning as she gave off this litany.

Shimura deflated. He was too stunned for words – stunned not only at the emotional speech but also at his own complete inability to reason out whether any of this even held a grain of truth.

_Now try and accuse me of lying, _her eyes said.

Effectively, she had led him down a one-way street. There simply weren't any suggestive questions he could go on asking from here.

He could admit it to himself just as well. He wasn't up to this woman.

/\/

Shimura agreed to let Kitazato roam about the hospital as she wanted. On one hand, this could have been classified as carelessness in regard of her suicide attempt. On the other hand, he usually could rely on his instincts and they told him she wasn't likely to try it again.

Also – but Shimura admitted this only to himself when he stumbled across them by coincidence – her walking to her own liking provided him with the opportunity to eavesdrop on a few more conversations between her and confidant. Sitting on the ugly rattan furniture in the entrance hall, Sasaki and Kitazato were quietly talking to each other. They couldn't see him standing on the gallery several metres above them, not even when he was leaning over the balustrade to better understand what they were saying.

"Ranmaru wasn't stupid enough to linger," Sasaki whispered, "but does that mean he kept the body?"

Kitazato shook her head. "I'm almost sure he took on a new host. If you're the right hand of the man who calls himself the Demon King for a reason, would tossing out another soul rob you of your sleep?"

"In that case, he will try to contact Nobunaga."

"Chances are that Nobunaga is in pretty bad shape right now." Kitazato sounded darkly satisfied with herself, for some reason. "It will take Ranmaru some time to find and cocker him. Furthermore, he's probably wounded himself."

"Is that why you refrained from calling Haruie and Nagahide?"

Kitazato hesitated. "No."

Sasaki looked at her to continue.

"There is something I must get over with, and the fewer people know about it, the better."

To Shimura up on the balustrade it seemed that Sasaki instantly know what she was talking about and how to react to this himself. It apparently took him some time, however, to find the right words to phrase his point of view.

"Your father," he breathed, "strictly forbade us under any circumstances –"

"To father any children, yes," she cut in. "He didn't say anything about not bearing them."

The usually placid Sasaki sat there with his mouth agape. Kitazato blinked as if only now registering the full impact of what she had said.

"Do you know what you're –"

She merely looked to the side and held up her hand for him to stop speaking. As for herself, she didn't seem able to think of something to say which would lessen the enormity of what she had just placed on his shoulders.

Sasaki sat in silence with his palms on his knees while she did her best to pull herself together. When he lifted his head, he was his usual calm self again. "You didn't consider this an option a few days ago. What made you change your mind?"

Kitazato took a deep breath. "Fact is, I don't know what she would have wanted to happen to the child. But that she didn't tell me seems to imply that she wanted it to be born. Or at least," Kitazato shrugged with an unuasually helpless air around her, "she didn't indicate anything to the contrary."

"You feel that you owe her this – is that it? Because the child is all that is left of her?"

She didn't react to that question. "With Oda out of the game, calmer times lie ahead. But even if Nobunaga were to be resurrected right as we speak, I'm confident that I could keep him of my track for long enough to – to do what I must without negelcting my duties if that's what my father is worrying about."

"That is not the reason and you know it." Sasaki sounded flustered. "Any child of a possessor will inherit his powers. With both parents being possessors –"

He broke off at a look of her, as if snubbed by his own words. "I didn't mean to phrase it like that," he murmured.

Kitazato stared into the distance. "I… didn't contribute to get into this situation. Still, I am and I have to decide. Kenshin can hardly expect me to be unbiased in this case."

"That is exactly what he will expect of you."

"Well,_ I_ fully expect _him_ to soft-pedal the whole affair. After all, it was him who entrusted my safety to Naoe Nobutsuna – and look where it got me."

She gave him a moment of time to let her words sink in before she continued: "I'm not placing you under the obligation. If you shy from dividing your loyalties between my father and me, it's perfectly understandable."

Her head held high, she was sitting absolutely still, like a marble figure. Sasaki lowered his head. For an insane moment, Shimura halfway expected him to kneel before her.

"I swore allegiance to you. Now is not the time to defect."

"Thank you, Irobe." Her voice was barely audible.

Sasaki lifted his head. "Are you sure, Naoe shouldn't – "

"Yes," she insisted. "I am absolutely sure. Naoe has no say in this."

Unnoticed by both of them, Shimura slipped away again.

Later in the evening, he heard from the ward sister that Kitazato had asked for vitamins and magnesia tablets as well as an additional portion of her dinner. She had also arranged to be scheduled for ultrasound first thing the next morning.

/\/

The question arose of what should happen with Kasahara once he could walk on his own legs again. There were specialists in Tokyo for the kind of brain injury he had suffered. They could send him there. Fujisaki suggested as much when he and Shimura were visiting him in his room. Kasahara declared his agreement.

He was growing frustrated with the way thing were proceeding – or rather, with the way they weren't, Shimura could tell. It didn't help that he was unable to leave this small room without someone's help. He could hardly distract himself from scanning his overexerted brain for even the tiniest scrap that could lead him to rediscover his identity.

Considering the less than pleasant circumstances, Kasahara was actually displaying a sheer inhuman restraint. He never got aggressive or took his misfortune out on his doctors. Other people in his place probably would be throwing fits and just give in to the despair the mere concept of being cut off from all that composed yourself brought.

"Tokyo, then. I guess it doesn't matter where I go from here for my recovery," Kasahara stated. "But I think I should go up to the top of the mountain before I leave. If that is indeed where I dropped my memory, maybe I'll stumble across it up there."

"It will take some time until your legs have healed sufficiently enough for you to go climbing," Fujisaki reminded him.

Due to the fact that his broken legs had required to be operated, Kasahara hadn't been give plasters, only splints. Therefore the healing process would take his time. Also, he was in considerably more pain, but he never once complained.

When Shimura complimented him on his stoicism, Kasahara suggested with a slight smile: "Maybe I was just brought up that way?"

"You will find out in time."

"Find out?"

"You will remember, I mean."

"Will I?" Kasahara cocked his head. "In time? What if I've got no time and just forgot about it? Maybe there are things I must do, people I must look after."

"Do you have the impression that something important is waiting for you?"

"Doesn't everyone have something important waiting for them?"

Shimura just looked at him.

"Something, yes. Or someone." Kasahara paused, then shook his head. "I remember this, you know."

"What?"

"Being anxious. Caring about someone, someone's safety. Being…" He narrowed his eyes to slits. "Under pressure."

Intrigued, Shimura stared at him. It seemed that they had finally caught a glimpse of the true Kasahara – a person who could worry, who could be scared.

But then, their patient smiled abashedly and said. "That sounds pretty weird, doesn't it?"

"Not necessarily. You remembered something."

"I remember mostly feelings, I'm afraid. That's not going to help much, is it?"

It was actually much more interesting than Kasahara could know. He had been so calm, so restrained all the time they had known him – what other emotions than serenity could he remember harbouring? And for whom?

Shimura sat down at the edge of his bed. "Can you distinguish the feelings from one another?"

Kasahara frowned. "I think so." He was silent for a moment. The two doctors waited patiently. "Anxiety, I said that already. Envy." His gaze was directed somewhere far away. "Wanting something. Anger. Like… a need to prove myself."

"That's good," Fujisaki chimed in from the footend of Kasahara's bed.

"Yes, it's very good," Shimura agreed.

"Is it?" Kasahara raised a brow. "None of this seems positive to me. It makes me wonder what kind of life I was leading before the accident. And who was in it."

Shimura briefly thought of telling him that human emotional life mainly consisted of darker feelings that most people wouldn't even freely acknowledge most of the time, but then decided against it. There was good possibility that Kasahara's psychogramm was about complete with the aspects he had named himself. Moreso, their patient had done an important step towards reclaiming his memories. It was all there. Anxiety, want, anger. He just had to disentangle it.

"Concentrate on the emotions," Shimura said, "and sooner or later you will remember the people they were directed to."

/\/

Shimura saw Sasaki and Kitazato off to the train station, feeling like a man whose hands had been tied behind his back. He had lost his chance to solve the mystery that surrounded the two of them. There were no reasons to keep them at Aso Central Hospital for any longer and his supervisors had given him instructions to send them home. Sasaki would take care of Kitazato as her doctor.

It was a fresh morning. Rain was drying on the asphalt of the streets. They arrived in silence at Aso Train Station.

"Before I forget it," Sasaki started and snatched a business card from the inside of his jacket. "Please keep this just in case Kasahara-san should ever want to contact me."

"That's very attentive, Sasaki-sensei," Shimura heard himself say. There was indeed a probability that Kasahara might want to seek him out once he actually started remembering. Which he would, Shimura was confident.

Kitazato was watching them from keen eyes, but didn't make a remark. Shimura wondered whether they had agreed on leaving the contact details of one of them before leaving. He bowed and shoved the small card into his own jacket pocket. He turned to Kitazato, ready to take his leave of her.

"All the best, Kitazato-san," he said.

"Thank you for your concern."

She was wearing her hair differently, now. She had tied it up into a ponytail. Like this, her shrunken cheeks became even more prominent. It also stressed her slanting eyes.

"We have to go now," Sasaki announced after taking a quick look at his watch.

"Good-bye, Shimura-sensei."

"Good-bye," he heard himself say.

Kitazato made a tiny head movement, directing towards the station building as if to say, _let's go_. Sasaki followed her immediately.

Shimura was watching their backs as they headed towards the station gates, leaving their mystery unsolved. There was a noticeable distance between them as they walked alongside each other, Sasaki making no approach to offer his arm to the young woman.

They weren't carrying an luggage with them, wearing only the clothes they had been in when the salvage teams had brought them down from Nakadake or what they had been given at the hospital. He watched them until they disappeared through the revolving entrance doors.

Back at the hospital, nothing apart from the files Shimura had kept on them – hers rather thick, his considerably thinner – would indicate that they had been there at all. In the files, none of their conversations had been outlined. In spite of having listened to them talk in private more than once, Shimura found that he couldn't recall what they had been speaking about.

When he finally turned away from the station, his gaze rose towards the direction they had come from. A cool breeze was stroking his face as he sought out the horizon behind the city.

The faintest trace of mist gracing its peak, Mount Aso lay quiet.

/\/

**Author's Note: **Feedback & con crit are highly appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **As sad as it is, they are still not mine, but Kuwabara-sensei's.

**Author's Note: **It's been a really long time since I worked on this one… But thanks to dear Haruna-san (to whom this chapter is dedicated again) I received a lot of inspiration about how to go on with this. Many thanks also to everyone who reviewed the story so for. You hopefully forgive me the long wait...

**Warning:** There wasn't an earthquake of the proportions described in the text in Tokyo since 1923 (and let's keep our fingers crossed that it stays that way). I only made that up for the sake of the story.

Enjoy :-)

**Nights with Matches and Knives**

**CHAPTER THREE**

**(1970)**

/\/

The young boy's perceptive gaze never left the slender hands that worked on the rebirth of his wrecked bike. At 7 a.m. he was wide awake and anxious to see whether it would be possible to ride to school by bike. He chewed on his lower lip. Chances were that he had to make for a hasty exit from there today which only the bike could provide. So he was keeping his fingers crossed. Now it all depended on the owner of the hands and the melodic, if slightly tired-sounding voice giving short orders from time to time.

"Screw-wrench."

He grabbed it from the tool box.

"The other one."

He exchanged the tools.

"Nut."

Dutifully, he handed that over, too.

"Oil. And a cloth."

A few more practised moves and the hands withdrew from the bike's frame.

"There you go."

A wide smile spread across the boy's face. "Great!"

He jumped up from the floor of what could be called the living room and ran to gather his school bag. That done, he put himself in front of the mirror and drove the brush over his hair a few times. While doing so, he cast the small wall clock a look. Still on schedule. So far everything was going according to plan.

Behind the boy, the silhouette of a slender, still-young woman showed in the mirror. She was wearing cut-off blue jeans and a wide black t-shirt. Her long black hair had been tied up into a ponytail.

"Kiheiji..."

Two pairs of almost identical golden-brown eyes met in the mirror. The hand that held the brush stopped moving.

"I'd appreciate it if you could refrain from wrecking the bike again for a little bit longer than last time."

"Yes, 'kaa-san," the boy murmured, looking slightly crestfallen. He had caught the wry smile tugging at his mother's lips, though. Actually, he was hoping the same. The bike was his pride and joy after all.

Light footsteps descended down the corridor of their small flat. Kiheiji could hear a long yawn coming from his mother's room, cupboard doors opening and clothes rustling. A few minutes later, she appeared clad in the formal robes she wore for work at the hospital. She lifted his bike from the floor and carried it out of the flat. Kiheiji followed, his schoolbag flung over one shoulder. His mother locked the door and made her way down the stairs.

Kiheiji could feel his mother's eyes on him. If she noticed something particular about him, she didn't say so. They needed few words to communicate and she kept most of her thoughts to herself. She was very different in this aspect from Tatsu's mother who would quizz her son about what was going on inside of him on a daily basis. Kiheiji's mother didn't. She just watched him with those piercing eyes of hers as if she could read his mind.

The old witches in the neighbourhood talked about his mother having the evil eye. They couldn't even be bothered to tone it down when Kiheiji was around. When he complained about this to his mother, she sighed and said something to the effect that the old hags just didn't have anything better to do with their time. She was right, of course. Still it stung if not half as badly as the even less silent remarks on the absence of his father.

Kiheiji's father had died a few months prior to his birth. But all people could see was a single woman of uncertain origin raising a young boy on her own. Kiheiji had once overheard his mother saying to Uncle Irobe that she wasn't going to start walking around with her marriage certificate pasted to her clothing just because some people had decided to overlook the ring on her hand. "People will think what they want anyway. I don't feel like telling every single one of my neighbours and all the parents of his class mates that, yes, I was married and no, the child is not illegitimate."

The adults bad-mouthing the two of them Kiheji couldn't do anything about. His peers – parroting their elders – were a different matter, though. Once again, Kiheiji had some scores to settle.

Down on the street, his mother handed the bike to him although they would walk together for a few intersections as they did every morning. Kiheiji drew in the fresh air that would be unobtainable in a few hours when the usual pall of smog would hang over the city. Kiheiji knew his mother dreamt of the seaside, but rents near the coast were exorbitant and their current flat was actually a stroke of luck being situated in a walking distance from both Kiheiji's school and his mother's clinic. Not many Tokyoites were that lucky, Uncle Irobe stressed when Kiheiji's mother expressed her longing for an acommodation from where you could at least smell the sea. She compensated her need by dragging her son to the coast every free minute.

Tomorrow was going to be such a day and Kiheiji was looking forward to it. The weather was supposed to be good and they could take their lunch boxes along, his mother suggested when they came to the intersection where their ways parted.

"See you in the evening, then. You got your keys?"

Kiheiji pulled the cord with the keys out from under his shirt to proove.

"Very good."

Somebody else's mother probably would have kissed her child good-bye, or hugged him or at least smoothed back the hair from his face. Kitazato Minako didn't. Sighing inwardly, Kiheiji turned around and climbed onto the bike. Riding off, he held his face towards the sky and took another deep breath.

It was a beautiful sunny day, nothing indicating that the calm and ordered life people were leading was about to go straight to hell.

/\/

He didn't get far.

In restrospect, it was impossible to say how it started, but Kiheiji could have sworn he felt something like a rumbling sound erupting in the air around him that made him get off the bike in astonishment a few seconds before the ground actually started to shake.

His mouth opened. But before he could even think of panicking, his mother was there – for once breaking a habit by throwing both her arms around him and pulling him to the ground. _She's been smoking again, _he couldn't help thinking as he caught a whiff of the cigarette she must have had earlier. She let go of him quickly, ducking besinde him one the ground and then pressed her flat hands to the pavement.

It was strange, Kiheiji thought, to see concrete falling from the walls of buildings, cars sliding into opening crevices and a huge hole appearing in the middle of the street, but at the same time not to _feel _anything of it happening. For some unfathomable reason, the ground had calmed down right under where Kiheiji and his mother were lying down.

The street had been busy as usual, even this early in the morning. By now, the anxious screams breaking forth around them almost drowned the soft words his mother was muttering under her breath beside him. Kiheiji heard them, but couldn't understand. He looked around and the whole magnitude of destruction slowly dawned on him.

A woman was leaning dangerously over the rim of a crevice in the street, calling down to where Kiheiji suspected someone had fallen. A man was lying a few steps away from them on his stomach, both hands covered in blood as he was clutching his head that must have been hurt by falling concrete. Everywhere people were rushing in panic to escape from where the ground had been shaking only a minute ago. Kiheiji got to his knees, preparing to stand up.

"Stay there," his mother snapped at him. As usual, when his mother adopted that tone with him, he obeyed without even thinking about what he'd been intending to do. He layed back down, amazed at how beneath him the pavement seemed to be completely intact when everywhere else deep damages were visible.

A child was crying somewhere near by and a male voice was repeating over and over again "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God…" followed by a ghostly silence. Only in the distance, the alarm of the fire brigade sounded.

"If the streets look like this all over town, I wonder if the ambulance cars will get through at all," Kitazato Minako thought aloud. Then she turned around to her son and finally stroked over his tousled hair. "Are you unharmed?"

Kiheiji nodded, quickly making sure that she seemed well, too.

"Show your hands," she said. He did so and she nodded, visibly relieved. His mother was always worried about him injuring his precious hands that he played the flute with at Music School. She got to her feet and pulled him up. "I have to see what I can do here and then we have to try and make it to the clinic."

Kiheiji understood. They would need her there more than ever today. Then something else suddenly occurred to him. "And our house?" Kiheiji whispered.

"I don't know. With some luck it's just out of the danger zone. We'll see in the evening. When we get to the hospital, I'll call your school from there, but I can't let you go wandering anywhere on your own." She bowed down and looked at him intently with those golden-brown eyes he had inherited. "I can't leave from here and you're not to leave my side, understood?"

Kiheiji nodded again and carefully followed his mother through the heaps of destruction. People were running about the place already, coming to the aid of others who were to heavily injured to make it to the hospital on their own. Around an hour later the paramedics arrived and brought stretchers, dressing material and painkillers. Much better equipped now, Kiheiji's mother continued to look after the mass of the injured people.

Sanitizer was out, she murmured to him somewhen around noon, could he please go to the paramedics and get some more? Kiheiji dutifully stood while his mother cleaned her hands and turned to the next man in the row who extended his arm to her. His wrist and metacarpal bones seemed to have been mangled, at least Kiheji could see some blood and a purplish bruise that covered his whole left hand. Kitazato Minako carefully inspected the injury without waiting for the man to tell her what had happened. She would have waited in vain either way.

It wasn't the first time that some male would look at Kiheiji's mother and simply forget what he'd been intending to say. It wasn't the first time either that Kiheiji felt his anger well up at their barely disguised avidity. However, Kiheiji had never watched his mother react to a man like this.

She took a fleeting look at the stranger's face and just about recoiled. Something about this image made Kiheiji stop in his tracks as it burned through his retina: His mother coiled almost catlike on the floor, never taking her eyes which were narrowed into slits off the stranger as if expecting him to pull out a gun on her or something. She seemed to have all but forgotten about his rather serious injury.

The man stared at her, bewildered. He was younger than Kiheiji had first assumed, probably around his mother's age with handsome features although there was something like sadness lurking in the corners of his eyes. Feathery hair was falling over his forehead. He was wearing a grey business suit with a tie that must have been clean and proper until a short while ago.

"Excuse me," he started hesitatingly, never breaking eye contact with Kiheiji's mother. "This may seem strange to you, but – do you know me?"

His mother blinked. After a quick glance at her son she looked back at the stranger and layed a hand into the nape of her neck in an oddly self-conscious gesture. When she finally spoke, it made no sense to Kiheiji at all.

"Of course," she murmured as if in deep thought or only slowly comprehending what was going on. "Sasaki-san left his business card there that day. Did you come to speak to him?"

The man's eyes widened. "Yes," he said, his expression lightening up and seeming even more wistful at the same time. "And to you if you are Kitazato Minako."

/\/

His name was Kasahara Yuuto, Kiheiji's mother said when she introduced him to her son while looking after his injured hand. Kasahara looked at Kiheiji with a kind of solemn interest. "Is he the child you were pregnant with when the tragedy occurred?"

Kiheiji tensed. Quickly he looked back and forth between his mother and Kasahara. What was that supposed to mean?

"Yes," his mother said softly. "That is my son Kiheiji."

Kasahara sent a few pleasantries his way. Kiheiji responded in the same manner while suppressing his growing irritation. What did that man want at all?

"Kiheiji," his mother said, looking up from the man's injury. "Kasahara-san was present that day on Mount Aso when your father died."

Kiheiji flashed a quick look at the stranger. That guy had been in the avalanche, too? So far he had only ever heard of his mother and Uncle Irobe having been saved at Nakadake. And himself, of course. He had been there as well, he had been told, still in his mother's womb.

"He was injured rather severly then and brought to the hospital. We haven't seen each other ever since." She looked at her patient.

Kasahara smiled ruefully at her. "It seems whenever our ways cross, there is a catastrophe nearby and I end up injured."

Kiheiji's mother didn't react to this. Instead she turned to her son and asked: "Can you go get the sanitizers now?"

Kiheiji obeyed although he didn't feel at all like leaving his mother alone with this stranger. He could hardly imagine this guy to go camping. And even if so – which right did that give him to stare at his mother as if she was worth every single yen in the Bank of Japan? None, in Kiheiji's opinion. He literally ran towards the ambulance car where he was supposed to pick off the desinfective to be back at his mother's side as soon as possible.

"Kitazato-kun," one of the paramedics addressed him. "You tell your mother that she can go over to the hospital now. The people here are being looked after but there are a lot of people who require psychological assistance."

Kiheiji nodded, relieved that there had popped up a reason for his mother to be impolite and just leave this Kasahara person to his fate. Good riddance. He dashed back to his mother and reported what the paramedics had told him.

"Yes," she said, "I've just been told the same thing. We'll walk over to the clinic and take Kasahara-san with us since he wanted to speak to Sasaki-sensei."

Kiheiji's face fell. His mother turned back to Kasahara. "Of course, it's unlikely that today of all days he will have the time to talk to you."

He nodded. "I'll best get an appointment for another day and head back to Kobe. If there are still trains running," he added, running a hand through his hair in thought.

"We'll sure find a solution," Kiheiji's mother said and began walking into the direction of her workplace. Kasahara extended an arm to her and Kiheiji could feel his own anger like a small knot in his stomach. _He_ was the one injured – did his mother look like she had trouble walking on her own? Idiot.

She just made noncommital gesture and continued walking alone, avoiding any contact with him. "Kobe," she said. "Is that where you are working?"

Kasahara closed up to her with Kiheiji walking behind them, never taking his eyes of the man. "Yes, it's where my company sent me a few years ago. But now I am being removed back to Tokyo."

"I see." She was striding along swiftly. Both the man and the boy had to make an effort to keep up with her. But Kiheiji was used to this from his earliest childhood. She was a runner after all, she didn't do it on purpose.

During the short walk, Kasahara's eyes were drawn to Kiheiji's mother several times. Of course, that could have been because she was keeping a rather rude silence, giving only monosyllabic answers to his questions. But Kiheiji knew better. He had come to witness this many times before. Thank God, his mother could see right through those guys and couldn't be bothered to give them the time of the day. Kiheiji snorted. Kasahara would see exactly where this behaviour got him: nowhere.

They were not the only ones on their way to the hospital. A few streets from where his mother had pulled Kiheiji to the ground, the buildings seemed unharmed, but long trails of people injured or looking for relatives were giving proof to the catastrophe which had happened. Arriving at the hospital, Kiheiji's mother led them right through the mass of people in the entrance hall and into the west wing where Uncle Irobe's office was situated. Her own office where Kiheiji had been many times before was located in the neurology section in one of the annexes to the main building.

It was loud, Kiheiji noticed. Usually, his mother's working place was extremely quiet, but today, doctors and nurses were running on the corridors, yelling orders and answers. They were getting in quite a few people's way before they reached Uncle Irobe's office.

Kiheiji's mother opened the door and said without an introduction: "You're busy, so I'll make it short. Kasahara Yuuto is standing outside this room and he'd like to have a word with you."

Kiheiji couldn't understand the murmured answer but his mother seemed to exchange a few meaningful glances with Uncle Irobe before she turned back to them and gestured for Kasahara to step closer. Merely a second later, Uncle Irobe appeared in the door. He gave Kiheiji's shock of black hair a soft stroke and then addressed Kasahara: "Please come in."

Kiheiji wondered for a moment whether this invitation included him and his mother as well, but before he could find out, his mother nodded at him. "Come with me. I'll phone your school," she said.

But they had only taken a few steps into the direction of the ward sister's bureau where the next phone was located, when Kiheiji's mother turned around and stared at the closed door of Uncle Irobe's office as if she wanted to go back there. Then, however, she shook her head and quickly walked on.

It took her several minutes to get Kiheiji's class teacher on the line and explain the situation to him. All the time, Kiheiji noticed, her eyes were glued to the office door. After the phone call, she hung up, but continued to hold the receiver in her hand, staring off into space.

"'kaa-san?" Kiheiji asked carefully.

She looked at him, her eyes filled with an emotion he couldn't classify. "It's all right," she murmured. She then led him back to the office and knocked on the door.

Uncle Irobe was sitting at his desk, Kasahara in a chair opposite of it.

"Minako," Uncle Irobe greeted Kiheiji's mother, "have a seat for a moment."

She sat down in a chair leaning against the wall of the office with Kiheiji taking up his station right next to her.

"Apparently, the earthquake affected only a large area north of here which also contains Central Station," Uncle Irobe said.

"Yes, I was just saying I'll have to find a hotel room for the night…" Kasahara added in.

"And I told him, that this is out of the question," Uncle Irobe said firmly. "He can spend the night at our house, of course, and we will have the possibility to talk."

Kiheiji's jaw dropped. Uncle Irobe was making this guy stay with them? At their own house? They didn't even know him! He looked at his mother.

Kitazato Minako impaled her mentor with a steel gaze. "I beg your pardon?"

"There aren't any trains running," Uncle Irobe explained, "so he cannot get back to Kobe and hotels will probably be full all over town tonight. It's best if he comes to stay at our house."

"We don't even know if we still have a house," Kiheiji's mother added for consideration without as much as batting an eye-lid.

"You're living together?" Kasahara asked, slightly puzzled.

"We live in the same building, but on different levels, " Uncle Irobe explained when Minako didn't stoop to answer the question.

"And we don't know if it's still standing," Kiheiji chimed in, supporting his mother's obvious dissent at the notion of having to put up with Kasahara any longer that necessary.

Uncle Irobe smiled fondly. "Well, there is only one way to find out, isn't there?" He addressed Kasahara: "I'll tell you what, Kiheiji has the keys. He can walk you there and let you in."

Kiheiji wondered whether he had misheard. "No," he said loud and clearly.

The two men turned around to him, obviously not having expected objection from his side.

"'kaa-san told me to never go anywhere with strangers, particularly not into any flats."

His mother cleared her throat. "Actually, I'd rather not have Kiheiji wandering around the city today. There might be aftershocks for all we know."

An awkward silence ensued, during which Uncle Irobe and Kiheiji's mother engaged in a short staring contest. Finally, she seemed to suppress a sigh and turned her gaze towards Kasahara.

"It would be best if you stayed here at the hospital until our shift ends," she said. "Then we will take you to our place."

"I shall gladly," Kasahara responded with that deep, cultivated voice of his. It was obvious that he felt uneasy. In Kiheiji's opinion, he had ever reason to do so. "Thank you for your readiness to help."

Again, his eyes were hanging on Kiheiji's mother for a tad too long. Kiheiji scowled at him. _Don't get your hopes up. That doesn't mean that she likes you. _

He just wanted the stranger gone. First an earthquake, then he wasn't allowed to go to school and take his revenge on the jerks who kept insulting his mother and now this. Kiheiji's day was going downhill and rapidly so.

/\/

Kasahara Yuuto turned to the high windows through which he could take a look at the gardens outside trying not to think about how much time he had already spent in places like this. He could look back on a long career in clinics and psychiatric wards where he had drawn a certain amount of attention as "the man who couldn't remember himself". In spite of being used to hospitals, there was something surreal that inhered to this place and this whole city today with all the death and destruction which the earthquake had brought.

Irrationally, he felt bad about choosing this one of all moments to seek out Sasaki-sensei. He couldn't know that the man would have completely different problems at hand when he arrived at his workplace. It hadn't been him first and foremost whom he wanted to meet, either.

He sighed. Although he should have known better by now, he had set high expectations towards meeting Kitazato Minako. Or rather, she had been his last hope that he might remember something or someone from his past since she had been there when the accident occurred which cost him his memory. As it seemed, he could say good bye to this last chance, too, for it was out of the question that he should have forgotten a woman like her under normal circumstances.

_A knock-out, that one, _he couldn't help thinking. _Widow with a child and not that young anymore – I didn't expect her to turn out such a stunner. _But his memories of her were obviously just as lost to him as was everything else that had happened to him before he had woken up at Aso Central Hospital nearly a decade ago.

As far as Kasahara could judge, he hadn't been faring too badly. He had a job and a secure social standing. He even had something that resembled a private life. At least from time to time he had. Whenever things started to become serious, he backed out of it. He couldn't really explain the latter to himself. But there was and ever since the loss of his memories had been the nagging feeling that something or someone important was waiting for him to show up and do as he was supposed to.

It couldn't have been his work, though: the company he had been working for had welcomed him back with open arms after his recovery as he hadn't lost any of his business knowledge along with his memories. And it couldn't have been his family either: apparently, he didn't have any since his wife had died two years prior to the happenings at Mount Aso. So, what was it? This pressing feeling that he was needed somewhere? What he had been able to find out about his life before the memory loss gave no hints about what this very important obligation could have been.

In the beginning, before he had found out the basic facts of his former existence, he had believed it to be a child. Or a love interest, maybe. Someone you were supposed to take care of. But he hadn't been able to find them afterwards. Unbidden, the image of Kitazato-san and her son rose before his inner eye. At least they had each other, even though they had suffered much worse than he had by losing husband and father. Maybe it explained why both of them appeared a bit cool towards him.

He grimaced. That was phrasing it in a polite way. He thought of their amber-colored, almost identical eyes, Kitazato-san's cold and impenetrable, her son's blatantly hostile. Making him stay at their house had been Sasaki-sensei's idea. Mother and son were obviously less than thrilled. Kasahara felt slightly uneasy about their displeasure, but consoled himself with the thought that he didn't have to bother them with his presence for more than one night. Yet for some reason – and didn't this just prove how he had been starved for human contact? – he was looking forward to it.

/\/

**Author's Note: **Thanks to everyone who's still with me ^_^ I hope I can bring on the next update a lot faster. It really is one of my weirder stories, isn't it? I'm really self-conscious about it… but that won't keep me from going on with it.

**Next chapter: **

"That was always the plan," Irobe said. "When Naoe comes here, we would keep him close and support him to regain his memories. The three of us agreed that it would be best to take him in."

"I know we agreed on that, but now… Now he's here!"

"Indeed he is."


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: **Here we go again, people! ^_^ Something about this story just gripped me. I was planning to update "All Honesty" first, but then buried myself in this one.

This chapter concentrates a bit less on Kiheiji and a bit more on Kagetora and Naoe interacting :-) It's slightly longer than the last one, too.

Have fun!

~As usual, for Haruna-Hakkai~

**CHAPTER FOUR**

/\/

"Aso Central Hospital, Shimura Ichiro speaking…"

"Shimura-san?"

"Yes, who is it?"

"My name is Sasaki. We met in Aso almost ten years ago, right after the outbreak of that volcano…"

"Sasaki-sensei! It's a pleasure to hear from you! Are you calling from Tokyo?"

„Yes, from Tokyo. I wasn't sure whether you'd remember…"

"But of course, I remember! How have you been faring? And how is Kitazato-san?"

"Oh, both of us are doing quite well. Minako-san completed her degree a couple of years ago. We are working at the same clinic in Tokyo now."

"That's excellent. But you must be extremely busy right now. News from Tokyo don't bode well these days…"

"I can imagine that they don't. You are correct, we have a lot of work to do with the aftermaths being this heavy, but something rather urgent came up that I wanted to talk to you about."

"Most certainly, Sasaki-sensei. How can I be of assistance?"

"It is about Kasahara Yuuto – the young man who was injured during the outbreak of Mount Nakadake and suffered from amnesia afterwards. He called on me a few days ago."

"Oh, he did? Yes, I believe, I gave him your address from the business card you left with me. He was staying at the hospital for a little while longer than you did until his broken bones had healed sufficiently. I had him transferred to a colleague in Tokyo afterwards."

"From what he told me he hasn't been able to regain his memories."

"I'm sorry to hear that. He… Well, I only knew him for a short time, but he seemed such a dignified, serene person. Never once lost his temper although he had every reason to… How is he doing apart from his memory loss?"

"He has lived in Kobe for several years where he apparently was under treatment by a local doctor. But now he is moving back to Tokyo and he asked me to recommend a specialist to him for further treatment. Of course, I have to get a better idea of his condition first. With that purpose, could you please send a copy of his file at Aso to my clinic in Tokyo?"

"I certainly shall. Please give my regards to him when you talk to him. And to Kitazato-san, too."

"Thank you very much, Shimura-san."

/\/

Uesugi Kagetora was watching the sea.

Seagulls were swiftly darting through the cloudy sky. The breeze brought the fresh smell of salt and sea-tang and dried the sweat on his skin. Onlookers would have seen a slender, heavily breathing woman in baggy sports clothes leaning against the balustrade of the boardwalk, her eyes distant, long hair tied up at the back of her head.

This body of hers, the first female body he had ever possessed, was ridiculously weak by comparison. He had known before that she couldn't defend herself the way a man would have been able to when Naoe attacked her. But now he physically experienced this weakness every time he tried to lift a bottle crate or a stack of books. And while he was no stranger to what it felt like to have stronger person enforcing themselves on him, having inherited her fragility gave him an additional awareness of Naoe's crime.

Then again, her body was wiry and persevering, having belonged to a woman who had started on long distance running in her twelfth year of life. Kagetora, too, had grown to like running thanks to this body that seemed to rejoice at him taking up Minako's old hobby. At times, the associated release of endorphins seemed the only thing that kept him from losing his nerve. Recent events in particular provided a good excuse for that. Naoe was back in his life.

That first evening at their house had been one of the most horrible social occasions Kagetora had ever suffered. Not even the festivities at Odawara after a new peace treaty had been signed – which usually meant for him to switch clans – had been that straining.

Having to sit at Irobe's living room table with Naoe's – or rather, Kasahara's – curious, guileless eyes on him practically all the time with Kiheiji only an arm's length away had been more than he had believed himself able to take. Being in the same room with both of them had felt surreal, even more so than the breathless silence after the earthquake. All tensed up during the whole affair, he had halfway expected Kasahara to guess at the truth, to be able to just _see_ the connection, like a flame mark above Kiheiji's head or something like that…

At least Kiheiji had held himself well. He had shoved down his food either wholly ignoring Kasahara or watching him from the corner of his eye with barely veiled contempt. Kagetora wasn't to be fooled, though. Kiheiji was beyond furious with the way things with Kasahara were developing even if he didn't say so.

Kagetora on the other hand completely agreed with him – if for very different reasons. But of course, he had said to Kiheiji that he had to be nice to Kasahara-san and always be polite and whatnot… all the while thinking hard about how he could hound Kasahara out of the house without making himself conspicuous.

The problem had temporarily resolved itself because Kasahara had to go back to Kobe to finish things up there, but immediately afterwards he was supposed to return to their house and for the time being stay there. An evil coincidence wanted the building in which Kasahara's company had rented a flat for him almost destroyed by the earthquake.

Being rather sensitive – and very different from the real Naoe in this aspect, Kagetora thought – Kasahara had picked up on Minako and Kiheiji not being extremely pleased to have him intruding on their lives. He was uncomfortable about staying at Irobe's place, but acknowledged that he had no choice in the matter right now. In fact, Kagetora blamed Irobe as the real culprit.

"Is it what I think it is?" Kakizaki Haruie had asked when Kagetora had called and said that they had urgent matters to discuss.

When she arrived at their house, Kagetora was just having a word with his other retainer about the third one's living conditions. "You didn't actually have to take him in. There are other possibilities for him to find housing in Tokyo!" Kasahara probably would have been quite stunned at hearing his self-controlled hosts almost yelling at each other. It was surely for the best that he didn't know what was going on behind the scenes.

"That was always the plan," Irobe said. "When Naoe comes here, we would keep him close and support him to regain his memories. The three of us agreed that it would be best to take him in."

"I know we agreed on this, but now... Now he's here!"

"Indeed he is." Irobe was as cold as a dog's snout and Kagetora deflated. He was right, of course, not just about their agreement but also about their duty to watch over Naoe. He wasn't merely a felon to cast aside in disgust, but also their companion for almost four hundred years. They owed it to him. Kagetora owed it to him for loyal services. That didn't mean that he had to like it, though.

As a result, Kasahara-san had to put up with all these weird half-strangers who knew much more about him than vice versa and for various reasons were out of sorts with him. So many subliminal currents that he wasn't aware of. So many landmines. Kagetora could hardly think of a more vulnerable state than the one Naoe – or rather, Kasahara – was in right now.

_Good. _

He turned away from the shore. The breeze felt cool in the nape of his neck. He couldn't help it. Ten years had done nothing to diminish his ire. He still thought of the body as hers. He still wished Naoe to the depths of Hell.

He had grown more weary, of course. The years weighed on him as they had done even before the whole incident already. It didn't help much that he only had to look into the face of his son to remember…

_His son. _

A child of theirs had been bound to turn out insufferable. His own tendency to get impatient with waverers and blame himself for everything that went wrong combined with Naoe's thirst for recognition and not being able to take no for an answer? God help us...

Keeping both their less than pleasant character traits in mind, it was surprising that Kiheiji had turned out fairly normal. Head-strong and passionate, yes, but equipped with a much better intuition than both of them put together.

It seemed that _she _had a hand in this, too, after all.

Kagetora sighed. Time to go home. They were expecting Naoe back from Kobe today.

/\/

With the notable exception of Kitazato Kiheiji, school kids all over Tokyo had been thrilled about their lessons being canceled for several days due to the earthquake. For Kiheiji, it meant that he had to postpone his grandiose revenge scheme for another few days while having to suffer the company of that stranger who had stepped into his – or rather, his mother's – life all off a sudden.

He didn't feel much better when Kasahara left for Kobe. It was only for a couple of days and then he would be back _to stay._ First with them, later at his own place in Tokyo. However, the blasted earthquake had destroyed the flat he had rented here. It could take a while until he had found a substitute. Kiheiji had confronted his mother about this, but only got little more than a shrug as an answer.

"Hey," another person's shoulder gently nudged his, "what's with the frown all day, young man? Aren't you looking forward to the nice lunch I'll be making for you?"

"He's supposed to come back today," Kiheiji murmured, kicking a pebble over the pavement. He didn't have to explain whom he was talking about.

The young woman walking next to him flipped her long hair back over her shoulder and threw him a glance. "Your mom and Uncle Irobe probably had their reasons why they took him in."

"Can't imagine what reasons that could be," Kiheiji argued. "'kaa-san doesn't like him either."

Today it was presumably especially easy to pick up on his mood, but Aunty Yuiko was doing a good job of it any other day, too. It was a trait she shared with his mother. Apart from that, Kiheiji thought, the two women were total opposites of each other.

Cheerful and outgoing, Yuiko usually wore her heart on her sleeve whereas with Minako you were constantly at a loss about what she was thinking. Even their clothing styles were completely different. While Minako preferred wide and comfortable clothes, Yuiko fancied dresses and skirts that emphasized her tiny waist.

Yuiko was his late father's younger sister. She had a very close bond with Minako which she now proved by remarking: "Your mother would help a person in distress regardless of whether she liked them or not."

"He's not in distress at all!" Kiheiji blurted out. "He just showed up here all of a sudden and made himself at home. _Plus _he's after my mother. He acts all decent and proper, but I know what he's thinking…"

"Kiheiji-kun," Yuiko laughed and shifted the bag with the groceries, "you're suspecting every man that crosses your mother's path of chasing her!"

"Well, it's true! He fancies her! He's totally obvious about it, too!"

"Don't know," Yuiko smiled at his outburst. "I've yet to meet him, remember?"

True. Yuiko had come over during the last two days to watch over Kiheiji and cook his meals while his mother had to work two shifts in a row at the hospital. Today was the first day Minako had been able to take a few hours off and what did she do first? Go for a run. Kihieji scowled.

Minako was watching Kasahara in return when she believed that no one was looking. She was careful not to let anyone notice, but Kiheiji had become an expert in spying on his mother without appearing to do so. To his relief, none of those looks she gave their unwelcome guest were all that friendly… But it still irked him.

"I must say I'm quite curious about him," Yuiko remarked. "I've never met an amnesiac person before."

"'kaa-san meets them all the time, so what's so special about this guy that she has to take him in? She's never brought a patient home and now this man is here and she's not even his doctor! What's he to us?"

"From what Uncle Irobe told me, he has got no one but us," Yuiko shrugged. "It must be horrible not to remember your own life – and the people which were in it."

That couldn't lighten Kiheiji's mood at all, even less so since he could sense some truth in the remark. There was a certain kind of wistfulness to Kasahara, a kind of exhaustion. Lost, Kiheiji decided, he seemed lost. It was weird to think that kind of thing about an adult, but he found it to be quite fitting.

Yuiko looked at him. "Also, he was in that incident during which your father lost his life. So there is a connection to our family."

Kiheiji frowned again. He hadn't thought about it this way before. They were all survivors of the same catastrophe, but otherwise Kasahara was a stranger. Did that really mean that his family had to feel responsible for him? Maybe his mother and Uncle Irobe even imagined his father in the same situation? If he had survived the avalanche… as Kasahara had done for some reason.

Kiheiji bit his lips. If only his father _had _been there… It was a train of thought he hardly ever allowed himself to follow. They were getting along on their own, Kiheiji and his mother. But… his father would have helped him against those jerks at school. No one would have dared approach his mother or talk behind her back without risking being beat up by his father. And she wouldn't have to work herself half to death at the hospital…

He narrowed his eyes, totally unaware of how much that expression made him look like his mother. _That's just a daydream. Because _he_ survived and my father didn't. _

/\/

Irobe met Kasahara in the hospital cafeteria after his morning shift. Instead of seeking out the younger man immediately upon spotting him, he remained standing in the doorway for a moment to watch his lost and found again companion. Having only just returned from a business trip, the other man was clad in a grey suit and carrying a black brief case with him. He was sitting calmly at one of the cafeteria tables.

Again, he found himself searching for traits of Naoe's host body in Kiheiji and the other way round. There were few, but they were there. The sweep of the cheek-bones, the chin… Kagetora must have noticed, too. The features weren't prominent enough, though, for outsiders or Kasahara himself to discern.

Irobe was glad to see his young comrade well. Just like the rest of them, he had been thunderstruck at what Naoe had done to Kagetora's wife a decade ago. It hadn't been easy to cope with his survival or even with the amnesiac version of Naoe he had encountered at Aso Hospital. What concerned his lord's involvement in the whole sorry affair, Irobe had effectively closed his eyes to that. To a certain extent, he shared Nagahide's displeasure at the games Naoe and Kagetora were subjecting one another to, but no matter how despicable they behaved, he couldn't find it in his heart to condemn them. The respect and friendship he felt for both of them proved too great.

Stepping towards Naoe's table, he nodded at the younger man. He would have welcomed him back with open arms, but took care not to show this to either Kagetora or Naoe himself. He just treated Kasahara as if they had known each other for ages – which they had in fact. If Kasahara ever mused about this phenomenon, he never said so. Anyway, it was good to finally have him back again.

They exchanged a few pleasantries. Kasahara ordered a coffee for himself and one for Irobe. The latter suspected that he looked like he could use one, having done two shifts in a row. Most colleagues were still occupied with the earth quake victims and as a result much more work than usual was to be on all of their shoulders.

"That brings us to something I wanted to talk to you about", Kasahara remarked. "My doctor in Kobe and I agreed on it being best if I found someone in Tokyo fit for the job of taking care of my problem." He hesitated imperceptibly. "Minako-san is a psychiatrist, isn't she?"

Irobe blinked in surprise. He was thinking of Kagetora of all people as a possible choice for a doctor? Goodness. "Minako has only been practicing for a couple of years," he was looking for a way out. "She is still completing her residency. There are certainly a lot of other psychiatrists and neurologists with more field experience which can provide you with excellent care. I shall call upon –"

"Forgive me, Sasaki-sensei," Kasahara held up a hand as in apology for the interruption. "But from what I've heard she is a specialist in injuries of the brain – or training to become one. And I know her already. It would be easier for me to work with her than with a stranger."

Irobe highly doubted that. Kagetora had been going out of his way to avoid their guest. He kept a blank face whenever Kasahara and gave only monosyllabic answers to questions. Not that there were many. Kasahara seemed in awe, but also a bit intimidated by Minako.

"That is an unusual approach. Some might even called it unethical. Also," Irobe struggled, "it is doubtful that she will take on another patient as she is working to capacity right now…"

"I want to ask her at least." Kasahara wasn't going to be swayed. It was exactly this trait – this inveteracy – that had always infuriated their lord. Not the best premises if the two of them were supposed to be working together on the recovery of Kasahara's memories. But of course Kasahara couldn't know this.

Irobe frowned. Now how was he going to tell Kagetora about this? Or maybe his lord had even anticipated this development? What better way could there be for him to keep a watchful eye on Naoe after all? As usual, it was hard to say what was really going on in Kagetora's mind.

"If you insist," he murmured. "I shall speak to her about it."

He wasn't taking his eyes of Kasahara. And what might be his ulterior motive in this? Was he hoping to spend more time with Minako? She hadn't exactly been friendly with him ever since he was staying at their place.

Of course, Kagetora was only doing what he usually did when faced with complications at a personal level. He wasn't afraid of any harm that concerned him alone but as soon as someone required a reaction that involved more of his innermost feelings, he drew back and hoped that keeping himself at a distance would spare him any emotional hardships. As he did in this case.

Irobe sighed to himself. He admired his lord and was loyal to him, but in some aspects the boy really was just that. A boy.

/\/

Minako's shift had ended by the time Kasahara arrived at the neurology section and had himself shown the way to her small office. She was just hanging her doctor's robe into the cupboard, so her face was hidden from his view when he entered the room.

"How is your injury?" she asked referring of course to his mangled wrist. She and Sasaki-sensei had taken good care of it. The pain had lessened considerably during the last days and Kasahara could imagine that he would be fine in another week from now. Living with two doctors brought certain advantages with it.

"Much better," he said. "Thank you."

She was wearing blue jeans and a baggy canvas jacket today which made her look even thinner and more fragile than she already was. Never taking her unusual slanting eyes off him, she took a seat at the edge of the table. "Sasaki-san tells me that you are looking for a professional here in Tokyo to talk to about your memory loss."

It was typical for her, he thought, not to say _your other problem _or _your other health issue_. Straight to the point without making excuses. Glad that she addressed the matter by herself, he started: "Yes, I was wondering whether maybe you could –"

"I don't think so to be honest." Her narrow eyes darted over his face before focusing on his own. Beautiful, he thought, almost missing out on what she had said. Like melted gold... "I'm still a beginner so to speak and it's not exactly my field of specialization."

Kasahara blinked. Now that was news. "You're working with people who lost their memories," he pointed out.

"No."

"No?"

She sat sideways on the table, one foot put to the ground, the other dangling in the air. "I'm working with patients who can't access their memories."

"So where's the difference?"

"We're speaking about people who have been suppressing their memories, sometimes for decades. Traumatized people. Victims of violence. You – merely hit your head."

He winced. "We don't know that."

"We don't know whether you suffered from trauma, you mean?" There was a clear edge to her voice now.

"We don't know if my memories are truly gone."

Minako possessed the grace to look a bit flabbergasted. "I didn't mean it that way." She quickly got up from her seat and busied herself with the coffee machine on the small sideboard. "Of course, you might still regain them. I just meant you have done nothing – consciously or subconsciously – to repress your memory. For all we know, it was an injury."

Something occurred to him all of a sudden. He turned around in his chair to watch her narrow back, the silky, black hair falling down. "Do _you_ remember?"

She froze. "Of course, I do," she answered, her face still turned away from him. Kasahara couldn't see her hands from where he was sitting, but he was sure that she had stopped moving altogether.

He couldn't hold himself back. "What happened up there?"

She didn't reply at once, but quietly moved back to the table and sat down opposite him. "I didn't see what happened with you. I didn't see my husband die, either. I remember that I was running and that I stumbled and fell to my knees. You'll understand, Kasahara-san," the slanting eyes bored into his again, "that this is not a pleasant subject for me, either."

Kasahara looked at his hands. "Forgive me. Of course, it is not."

She passed one of the steaming mugs to him. He looked at the light-brown liquid inside of it, then at his host.

"It's with milk," she said. "No sugar."

Surprised that she had picked up on his habits that quickly, he took a careful sip. And here he had believed she was doing her best to ignore his presence at her house. Or perhaps, he inwardly grimaced, she just had a talent for memorizing completely random things.

She gripped her mug and drank a quick gulp. _She's burned her tongue. _

He shook his head. "Forgive me," he said again, wondering where the abstruse feeling of being in this woman's debt came from. "I'd just feel more comfortable with a therapist who's connected to me and my case in some way."

"That isn't how we are working in psychiatry, I'm afraid."

"I guess so," he murmured. "Shimura-sensei once spoke to me about this."

"Is that the earliest thing you remember? Waking up at Aso Hospital?"

"No."

The golden eyes returned to him, narrowed to slits this time.

"At least, I don't think so," he added. "There are fragments of things that clearly never happened after I woke up at the hospital. But I cannot establish whether they are memories or... not."

He thought that sounded pretty clumsy, but at least he had Minako's full attention now. "What are they about?" she asked as if intrigued against her will.

"Rain running from windowpanes. Like gushes of water. And something about a staircase in a dark house. The carpet in a living room. I'm wondering…"

"Yes?" she asked very softly.

"This may sound strange, but maybe these are actually not memories at all, but… education. I could remember certain things I must have read in books after all. So maybe this staircase and the rain slashing against the windows appeared in a movie I once watched." He shrugged. "Or something like that. A Western style building."

"Many of those are being built now."

"Yes. But ten years ago they were still quite rare." When she continued to look at him warily, he added: "I knew what a cinema is. But I didn't remember ever being in one."

She nodded. "It's an interesting case," she finally said. "You were quite lucky, too, come to think of it. You lost none of your professional qualification, it seems."

"No, I didn't. At least, they tell me so." _I wonder how she would be faring in the same situation, _he thought. In spite of her wispy appearance, she radiated a certain determination, the inkling of a steel core underneath. Her fingernails softly scraped over the table surface. One of them was broken, he noticed.

"All of this must be documented in your file," she finally said. "Sasaki-sensei had it sent from Aso and it arrived just the other day."

Kasahara was holding his breath. Did that mean…?

"I guess I shall have a look at what's in there to establish whether I'm… qualified at all to take on a case such as yours."

He had to get a grip on himself not to beam at her. "Thank you, Kitazato-sensei." It came out heart-felt.

She murmured something in answer. And there it was. All of a sudden, the intense feeling of reliving something familiar gripped him. He had been in that situation before. Saying something, doing something, an emotion welling up inside him – and being presented with elusion. The impression of offending somebody, getting closer than appropriate without really doing so... without it being anywhere near enough...

If this wasn't a promising start for their professional meetings. He smiled.

He didn't say anything, just congratulated himself inwardly. Asking her had been the right decision.

/\/

Considering the short time that Kasahara Yuuto had spent in the care of the doctors at Aso Central Hospital, their notes amounted to a considerable volume by the time he had left there. They had obviously been very interested in their amnesiac patient. Dr. Shimura's notes were particularly detailed. The file also contained a couple of photographs which Kagetora watched

intensively.

Kasahara had caught him by surprise today. It was kind of unsettling that Naoe should be able to do that after all this time, but maybe his amnesia provided him with a self-confidence and power his original self had lacked. _Maybe I'm so busy projecting character traits and habits of Naoe's onto him that I miss out on the obvious…_

It was evening now. Kagetora curled up on the living-room armchair with the heavy file and started reading, sipping his tea from time to time. Downstairs, Irobe was rummaging about the kitchen. From the next room the sounds of Kiheiji playing the flute easily penetrated the thin wall. Kagetora's eyes were darting over the narrowly inscribed pages, picking up sentences.

_February 8__th__, 1961_

_Sasaki and Kitazato sent home today. __Received Sasaki's business card and shall pass it to Kasahara. Patient expressed no noticeable feelings on the news of them having left. Beat me at chess again. _

_March 1__st__, 1961_

_Talked about his profession__ at length, expressed excellent knowledge of contemporary stock market. Can remember ambition, but is not sure whether it had anything to do with his profession. (What else?) Employer has been notified. Sent his best wishes. _

_Can __not completely eliminate injury of the brain as reason for memory loss, but am almost sure there must have been another trigger. But what? _

_March 11__th__, 1961_

_Physical injuries are healing well. Showed him the photography of his late wife Akiko__ which was sent from Tokyo. No recognition. Doesn't remember his home in Tokyo either. Knows how to make use of a coffee machine, but doesn't remember ever actually having used one before. _

_April 29__th__, 1961_

_Patient is eager to depart at times, hesitant to even leave the building at others__. Behavior indicates apprehension of meeting other people. Negated question of whether he was afraid of the people outside or encountering people from his past. _

_May 17__th__, 1961_

_Weird remark from patient's side today: Is able to separate his feelings of envy from his feelings of jealousy. Believes them to be directed at different people. No names, no faces. Strong obligation to one of them. _

_May 23__rd__, 1961_

_Still doesn't remember the name and face of that person but believes them to be in need of him by their side. _

_June 16__th__, 1961_

_Kasahara in a mood__ for the first time. No apparent elicitor. Growing more and more restless all day. Later apparently faced with a heavy nightmare, crying in his sleep –_

Kagetora decided abruptly that he had read enough and closed the file. He felt a shudder run down his spine. June 16th, 1961. That was the night Kiheiji had been born.

He had always suspected that he must have cried out for Naoe when the pain had rendered him nearly delirious.

The music next door had ended a while ago. He turned and saw Naoe's son standing in the doorway. "Dinner's ready," Kiheiji announced.

Kagetora looked at him for a moment then nodded, slowly uncurling his legs. A pleasant scent wavered upstairs from Irobe's cooking. From the apartment downstairs where Kasahara would be sitting at the table…

Kiheiji's thoughts were moving along the same lines. "Just how much longer do we have to put up with him?" His voice sounded almost bored. He'd put on a drawl that he probably hoped would help him hide his true emotions. A far cry still from the perfect disguise Kagetora himself had achieved, but then he'd had centuries to practice.

_He's jealous,_ Kagetora realized all of a sudden. _He's not used to having to share me. Of course, there's Irobe. And Haruie. But that's different. They've always been there._

What Kiheiji was experiencing now was an intrusion. He couldn't comprehend just what was going on and it surely didn't help that Irobe and Kagetora acted as if a stranger staying at their home was perfectly normal. Kiheiji dealt badly with changes that concerned his personal environment. The thought which had been there all the while, but only now broke through: _How totally like his father. _

/\/

**Author's Note: **For some unfathomable reason, Kiheiji's part was the hardest to write this time, although I had written chapter 3 almost entirely from his perspective.

**Next chapter: **_The thought occurred to him all of a sudden. _

_Naoe could fall in love with someone else and leave him, yes. _

_But Naoe without his memories was more than likely to do so. And maybe it wouldn't be just a fling this time..._

Also, more on the circumstances of Kiheiji's birth.


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER FIVE**

/\/

Today was the day. Kiheiji could feel his heart hammering against his chest. He had spent quite some time thinking hard not only about the devices he had at hand and finally making his choice. It had been a real piece of cake to get into the art room while there wasn't a lesson and sneak into the small chamber where the art teacher kept the colours which were being used for acryl paintings.

Kiheiji had done his best and chosen a very nice colour. For girls, that was.

His female classmates, too, from time to time joined the ranks of those who taunted him about his so-called dubious heritage. But the usual spokesmen were of course Mori Yoshio and Satoshi Asahiro. Kiheiji couldn't quite remember how word had gotten out that he was being raised by a single mother. Maybe the adults had always known about it and it had only taken the children a couple of years to catch up on the implications.

He had planned ahead and stored the paint in the garage where the lawnmower was kept. Hidden under a plane, expectably no one had found it until Kiheiji came back – earlier than he had expected himself, since sports had been cancelled – and put it to good use. He had been worried whether there would be enough of it for two bicycles. But there was.

With Yoshio and Asahiro who were a year above him still attending their lessons, he had all the time in the world... He snickered. It wasn't very likely that they would get to the bikes before the paint completely dried on the breaks so that they would still be able to ride them. Whether the paint could ever be removed from the frames was another question altogether. In glee, he was watching the destruction he had brought on.

It was then that he felt a large hand descend upon his shoulder.

"Kitazato-kun! Have _you_ done this?"

Oh, _crap_.

/\/

Kakizaki Haruie welcomed her lord home with a dazzling smile that promptly caused Kagetora to halt at the foot of the staircase leading to Irobe's flat with a wary look on his face.

"Is it my turn to do the cooking?" Irritation was evident in his voice.

"Yep."

Pause. "Do you feel inclined to assist me by any chance?"

"I feel inclined to sit at the table and watch the proceedings while having a taste of Irobe's white wine, if that's what you mean," she deadpanned. From the corner of her eye, she noticed one of the neighbours watching them through the banisters from the level above. Haruie cheerfully waved at her. The old woman retreated with a peeved expression on her face.

Sighing, Kagetora walked up the stairs and followed Haruie inside where he dropped his shoulder bag on the small chest of drawers in the entrance corridor. His and Irobe's flats were practically identical with regard to layout and furnishings. The only difference was that Irobe had made a guest chamber of the additional room in which Kiheiji slept upstairs. Haruie had spent the night there countless times – and now Naoe was staying in it for the time being.

He was out now, of course, working at that company of his. Her comrades, Haruie thought, had a knack for picking the most stressful jobs. One just had to look at Irobe and Kagetora. Then again, it was probably for the better if Naoe wasn't seen around the house too often. The neighbourhood hags were most likely discussing Kitazato Minako's handsome suitor already more or less on the quiet.

"I don't know how you can stand it here," Haruie said honestly and made herself at home at the kitchen table, crossing her legs. "The old witches are watching your every move. They're probably keeping tabs on whom you're talking to and who goes in and out of here. How are you supposed to get yourself a private life under these circumstances?"

"Houses are expensive," her lord replied absent-mindedly while he examined the cupboard for a decent frying pan. "And I don't need a private life."

Haruie shrugged. Now that was debatable, but it wouldn't have been wise to object. Kagetora had never cared much about socializing in any of his lifetimes, but there had been times when he had made friends among the living or come to care about the families he had been born into. But ever since Minako's... death, there were no people in his life except for Kiheiji, Irobe and Haruie. And now, of course, there was Kasahara.

Having to care for a child hadn't helped Kagetora's cooking skills much, Haruie thought wistfully. In early years, he had taken Minako's studies as an excuse to avoid kitchen exercises. All three of them working in shifts had forced him to take matters into his own hands from time to time, though. Sympathetically, Haruie watched him fighting with the equipment when the telephone started ringing. Kagetora jumped at the chance to get away from the stove.

"Yes?" he barked into the receiver.

Haruie took another sip of the wine, then threw a look at Kagetora who had become very quiet. She was startled to see the angry frown on Minako's even features.

Kagetora was listening intently to the agitated voice coming from the receiver which Haruie could hear but not understand and finally interrupted in a sharp tone. "He did _what_?"

/\/

Principal Miyamoto Noriyuki had spent less than ten minutes with Kitazato-sensei and her offspring and was trying hard not to look too thrilled when he was seeing them off. Consulting with parents and children wasn't his favourite of obligations under any circumstances, but those two were especially tiring. There was something constantly irritated and wary about the kid. Miyamoto could see it in the mother, too, though she was careful not to let it show too much.

Single woman with child, the father dead before the kid was even born, very tragic and all that. As if anyone would buy into that kind of thing anymore.

It was understandable, of course. Which woman would voluntarily admit to having been seduced and discarded off by some scoundrel? He could see why she'd jumped at the chance to leave the past behind and create a new existence for herself by help of the ring on her hand.

He could see right through the facade, of course, but he had never actually thrown it into her face as he could have.

Stupid girl, he thought looking after Kitazato Minako who as usual carried herself like a queen hearing out her underlings while speaking to them was completely beneath her. Didn't appreciate people who meant well with her.

/\/

"Would you bother to fill me in on why you do such a thing?" His mother was unnerved, in spite of the cool behaviour she had displayed in the principal's office. Kiheiji admired her for being able to do this. He would have liked to do the same – let everyone just see as much of his feelings as he allowed them to.

He was "Well, they ticked me off!"

"If I destroyed the property of every person I consider a nuisance I wouldn't have much time left to do anything besides." She fell quiet for a moment. "And why didn't you just go and punch them like anyone would in such a situation?"

"Why, you always say violence doesn't solve anything," Kiheji scowled.

"And pink paint does?"

Kiheiji turned around angrily, but when he saw his mother's mouth twitch like this he found it hard to keep a straight face. By a quick nod she signalled him towards the exit. Kiheiji fell into step next to her and they walked in silence out of the school gates. It had been so nice, Kiheiji thought, when there were just the two of them and Uncle Irobe and Aunty Yuiko.

"Did you have to become his doctor?" he murmured lost in his thoughts.

"I considered all possible outcomes and decided that it's the right thing to do." Minako was unshakable.

"Well, I think he could have gone looking for someone else to take him in."

"I know that's what you think. I'm not expecting you to socialize with him otherwise than sharing a table during meals. Let that be enough."

Kiheiji sighed soundlessly. She had prepared herself for those questions. There was just no arguing with her when she was like this.

But that didn't mean he'd stop trying.

/\/

With Kasahara sitting at the table, neither Kagetora nor Kiheiji had been keen on discussing today's events at school, but after dinner (which Haruie had ended up preparing) his lord had pulled Irobe aside and described the whole episode to him. It wasn't the first time that Kagetora had been asked to appear at school and let himself be lectured about the difficulties of being a single parent by a teacher or the principal.

"It's no picnic for him to be the object of such comments. I am aware of this. But I don't really see how I can take remedial action." He rolled his eyes. "Apart from getting married, of course."

They were sitting on the small balcony, Kagetora taking pulls of a cigarette. It was a habit he had only taken to a few years after Kiheiji's birth. He rarely indulged in it, sometimes weeks went by without a single cigarette. Tonight, however, he was clearly smoking to calm his nerves.

He had borrowed something of Naoe's just like he had borrowed something from Minako. Smoking and running... two things which effectively interfered, Irobe thought. Maybe he was reading too much into it, but it seemed to him as if Kagetora had taken tokens from the two people closest and lost to him.

Besides the child, that was.

_A few days prior to Kiheiji's birth, Irobe had come home to find Kagetora__ curled up on the sofa. At first glance, he appeared to be resting. But then, Irobe noticed the paleness of his face and the painful frown. _

"_It's nothing__", Kagetora murmured when Irobe rushed to his side, amber eyes unfocused. "Just a bit of pain."_

_For__ the first time in almost four hundred years of service Irobe found himself yelling at his lord. It turned out that the same thing had happened before. _False alarm _they called this at the hospital – and of course, Kagetora hadn't been compelled to tell him about it and rather suffered in silence. What infuriated Irobe so much, though, was that Kagetora didn't seem to mind that this wasn't just about him anymore. He was putting the child in danger as well by his stubbornness. _

You chose it, you deal with it, _Irobe thought angrily. "You cannot act like it doesn't concern you just because it is unpleasant," he said insistently. His lord was doing so in far too many things already. Irobe wanted to go a bit more into detail about why what Kagetora was doing could be dangerous for the unborn, but stopped at the furtive look in his lord's eyes. _

"_You think the 'unpleasantness' makes me so helpless and dependent that I'll put up with that tone?"_

_Two things seemed very clear to Irobe at that moment. _

He wouldn't speak like this if he weren't half-crazed with fear.

_And: _That's the kind of comment that is usually reserved for Naoe.

_He cursed inwardly. Naoe should have been here. It was his responsibility__ to look after Kagetora, now more than ever before. He knew these were unjust thoughts – it had been Kagetora himself after all who had made it impossible for Naoe to be by his side... _

_Maybe he regretted this now, maybe his hatred was stronger. Irobe wasn't sure about his feelings – not then, not at any time later except for the one moment when the grisly pain of giving birth robbed Kagetora of the high walls he had built so carefully around himself. He would never have called for his guardian, Irobe thought, if he had been fully coherent. _

_Naoe's son was born shortly before dawn. __Blood loss, pain and overspending had taken their toll on his lord by now, but somehow Kagetora still found the strength for a downright impatient gesture when Irobe appeared to look after him first instead of the baby. _

_He turned around with the newborn in his arms __after wrapping him into blankets and found his lord watching his every move – or rather, Kagetora's eyes were glued to the bundle he was holding. _

"_Give him to me." _

_It never occurred to Irobe to object. _

_Kagetora__ was deathly pale. Minako's silky hair was plastered to his forehead and temples. It visibly cost him his last strength to raise himself up to take the baby from Irobe's hands. But apart from that, he was handling his son in a very sure and practised manner. How to hold your child was most probably something you didn't unlearn, Irobe mused, not even in the course of four hundred years. _

_Kagetora __on the other hand seemed to have completely forgotten about Irobe being present at all as he was bowing his head towards his child. His fingertips were touching the newborn's small hands, the cheeks, the tiny eye-brows. In silence, Irobe made his exit from the room. _

Kitazato Kiheiji,_ he wrote down shortly before dawn. For this was the name Kagetora had picked for his son. _

Time had passed. The child's eyes had taken on the familiar golden-brown colour in the course of a few months. The subject of a possible adoption hadn't risen again. Kagetora called for Haruie who promptly appeared in a newly possessed adult body and clearly had to make an effort to hide her delight when faced with the gurgling baby. Only once she murmured something under breath about how amazing it seemed that two of them actually had a child together. Kagetora, thankfully, hadn't been present.

All this had happened a little over nine years ago. Kiheiji had grown up completely unaware of his real heritage, believing himself to be the son of a man who had died in an avalanche during a hiking trip to Mount Nakadake. They hardly ever mentioned Naoe in private.

As far as Irobe was aware, Kagetora had never undertaken the effort to contact his father – and Kenshin most probably hadn't contacted him. Irobe had the strong suspicion of being held under a kind of concealment by his lord. Partly out of shame, partly out of the threat of being ordered to give up Kiheiji's education to someone else, Kagetora was hiding from his father for the time being. With Oda out of the game, he could actually afford to.

Kagetora looked at his half-smoked cigarette. "To be honest, I'm thinking about taking a cassette recorder with me next time. That man's voice is so fit for putting me to sleep. I could use that in the evening."

Irobe let out a dry laugh. "Did he start with his It-sure-is-not-easy-to-be-a-single-mother-these-days sermon again?"

"When there's something amiss, he practically never gets to the point of what my son actually made a mess of, but prefers to talk about my precarious situation at length."

"One should think today had been an exception. The incident practically called for it. I can see you doing the same thing, by the way, if someone got to you."

Kagetora blinked. "I probably wouldn't bother with paint but take a sledgehammer instead. What's your point?"

"I think it very appropriate that he won't take this kind of thing lying down, don't you agree?"

"Just go ahead and praise him."

"Now, getting caught certainly was the wrong thing to do..."

"Somehow I'm glad that you're not the one who's responsible for him becoming a decent adult person..."

/\/

Kasahara Yuuto was at a loss about his lady doctor. This was something that didn't happen to him very often when it came to women. Actually, he prided himself on understanding how their minds worked. But with Minako, none of the usual attitudes seemed to apply. He wasn't sure, however, if that really bothered him.

It was fascinating, too, in a way. She didn't need him to compliment on her hair or her eyes (on those, he was sure, she must be receiving quite a few compliments) or even her intellect. She didn't seem to sit around and wait for him to notice her as a woman. He'd had women doctors before and sooner or later there had always appeared a crack in the professional facade. But not with her.

Her lack of interest in him as a man seemed strange to him, but enjoyable. Kasahara had to admit that he felt comfortable with this woman – much more so than with any of his former doctors. Come to think of it, he couldn't remember ever being at ease like this with anyone – not in the last ten years and certainly not from the time before.

"It seems weird," he confessed. "It's one thing to just have forgotten about those people. But not finding anyone to replace them within a time span of ten years?"

"Why do you think that is?" Minako asked with her typical clinical interest when he mentioned this during one of their sessions.

"No one came looking for me," he added. "All the time I spent at Aso Hospital, nobody ever asked about my whereabouts. It leaves me to the conclusion that I probably didn't have any friends or close acquaintances, that… I really must have kept my privacy."

A thought occurres to him: she would know about that. He hadn't failed to notice that she was the object of common interest in her block. "What do you do about that?"

"About my privacy?" Minako raised an eyebrow. "Ignore others as best as I am able to."

"What about the people you can't ignore? Friends and family? You have that, as opposed to myself, don't you?"

She hesitated. "I cut ties with all of my former friends and colleagues after Kiheiji's birth. Sasaki-sensei was the only exception. And my sister in law, of course."

"You make an interesting family."

"Probably so. But they are the only one I need."

"What makes them your family?"

Minako smiled a bit. "Shared adventures. They've seen me at my worst and still won't turn away from me."

Kasahara fell quiet. "I wonder if I ever had someone like this in my life. If I was ever able to see through someone so completely that no secrets were left. If I ever wanted someone this much – to know about me."

Minako threw a glance into his file. "Here it says you were married. And that she died."

"Her name was Akiko. I only know that because I was told when I was at Aso. But it's not her I'm talking about. I've seen her picture and it didn't stir the slightest bit of emotion in me."

"It's not uncommon in cases of amnesia that patients don't remember their loved ones." A short pause ensued. "You've never gotten close to anyone again?" she asked softly.

Kasahara met her gaze, but was surprised to see her almost flinching as if thinking that she had made a mistake by asking this question. She seemed to be looking for words to preempt him from speaking, but he found that he wanted to tell her about this part of his life. He didn't want her to think him as shying from relationships.

"It's not for lack of trying," he shrugged. "I enjoy the company of women and they seem to enjoy mine. I've had relationships in the past ten years, but never… It was never serious, never…"

"Never exclusive, you mean." There was something strained in her voice, though hardly noticeable.

_Great,_ he thought. _Now she'll see me as a weakling who doesn't give a damn about other people's feelings and cannot restrict himself to one woman only…_

/\/

_I __don't want to hear this... _

Weirdly enough, the thought stung. It was certainly ridiculous, because Naoe used to have flings before and it had never truly bothered him. Or had it? Back then, he had always known that Naoe was doing it just to spite him. Kagetora suspected that this was even the reason he had married Akiko in the first place: because he himself had found Minako.

But then he had been dealing with a Naoe whose thoughts constantly revolved around _him _and not with this much more gentle, much more considerate person who was technically – a stranger.

_He doesn't remember __ever loving me. When he's with a woman he's not doing it to get a reaction out of me, but because he wants to be with her. _

The thought occurred to him all of a sudden. Naoe could fall in love with someone else and leave him, yes. But Naoe without his memories was more than likely to do so. And maybe it wouldn't be just a fling this time.

"Minako-san?"

Kagetora looked up. "Nothing." He silently congratulated himself on being able to force a smile. "It's nothing."

/\/

Kasahara couldn't help wonder what had just happened. He only knew that he wished he hadn't told her about this aspect of his life, or maybe not in that wording. Maybe it had stirred something unpleasant in her memory. He didn't know what her husband, her marriage had been like after all.

Here it was then. The first chink in Minako's armor.

He wasn't surprised when she ended the session a bit earlier than usual. Leaving her office he decided to wait for her outside since it was nearly the end of her working day and he could see her home just as well as he had exactly the same way.

She stopped for a moment when she came out and saw him waiting there. He had never done such a thing before and he could see that she wasn't pleased. Well, it was too late to do anything about it now, he decided. Falling into step beside her, he reached the main exit and promptly collided with her when they were both reaching for the door handle. They froze. Minako looked up at him, then at the door handle. A fine flush spread on her cheeks.

He smiled slightly and took the handle from her without circumstance. "I see you're used to opening doors on your own."

He pulled the door open and gestured for her to walk through first. But Minako stood and looked at him from her beautiful narrowed eyes.

"Sorry," she said, not sounding sorry in the slightest. "I'm sure I must make a pretty strange female to you." There was a decidedly provoking note to her voice now.

Taken aback, Kasahara watched her walk him by – not without pressing a flat hand against the wooden door surface to hold the door by herself – and pass through the gate.

Whatever could she have meant by that last comment, he wondered as he followed her. Was she insulted because he had tried to hold the door for her? But how so? It was a gesture of respect, of politeness, the kind of thing that men did for women they admired or were... well, enamoured with.

_She's a strange woman, that much is true,_ he thought. _So many things rub her the wrong way. _

They walked back to the house in a bemused, uncomfortable silence.

/\/

At home, Kagetora left the cooking to Haruie again. He was glad that Kiheiji decided to join his Aunty Yuiko and entertain her with a story about his newest jest at school, so both of them were busy. Kagetora quietly went upstairs into his own flat in order to rest for a short while until dinner was ready.

Today's session with Kasahara had drained him. Damn him, why did he have to act like this all of a sudden? Just when Kagetora believed to have the situation under control… wasn't it just typical for Naoe to go and mess things up? He snorted, remembering how long it had taken him last time to figure out Naoe's motivation. Almost two hundred years. This time, he was catching up on it much quicker. Forewarned is forearmed, didn't they say so?

_Not true, _a tiny voice chided him. _He was just trying to be friendly. Quite an effort when dealing with a prickly character such as yourself! You on the other hand are having strange fits because you remember stuff that he doesn't – and you let it out on him. _

Kagetora briefly considered his options to keep from the dinner table and brood in silence but quickly decided that this would make Kiheiji worry about him which was the last thing he needed tonight. Thankfully, his son was tired himself and relatively soon left for bed.

As he did every night, Kagetora waited for approximately twenty minutes before he followed him. In the dark of Kiheiji's room, the boy's calm breathing was the only sound. Kagetora tiptoed over to his son's bed. He didn't need the slightest shimmer of light to reach out for the sleeping boy, to smooth back the hair from his face and touch his lips to Kiheiji's forehead.

Before Kiheji, Donanmaru had been the only person Kagetora had ever touched of his own volition – without thinking about it, just reaching out for him to hold him or stroke his hair. The sword of a murderer had robbed him of this closeness. With Kiheiji, things were slightly different. Being both mother and father to him, it came even more naturally to Kagetora to touch him – while carrying him, washing or dressing him or wiping his nose. At the same time, he was much more hesitant about it.

No matter how he looked at it – no matter how close they were, how they could almost read one another's thoughts sometimes, he couldn't get over the fact that Kiheiji wasn't just his child, but Naoe's also and therefore the result of... that vile act.

He felt bad about it. Now, that was putting it mildly. He could hammer into his own head as much as he wanted that Kiheiji had the least fault in the whole sorry affair – much less than he himself had, actually – there was nothing he could do about it.

He was handicapped when it came to showing Kiheiji his affection in broad daylight. The child sleeping made it much easier. In silence, Kagetora got up from his son's bed, crossed the darkened room and quietly pulled the door shut behind him.

/\/

In the dark, Kiheiji's eyes flew open.

Every time this happened, he was sure his heart was beating so loudly that his mother must hear and guess that he was only feigning sleep. But so far she never had. He could estimate the exact time by now which it took her to make sure that he was asleep. Seconds before her light footsteps sounded in front of his door, he knew that she was coming.

He never questioned why she was behaving so strangely. She never kissed him and rarely touched him at all – except for when she believed him to be asleep. That was just the way she was. And it was quite enough.

Their nightly ritual was over for today. Comforted, Kiheiji turned to his side and slept.

/\/

**Author's Note: **This chapter behaved most irritatingly. I just couldn't get on with it after writing the outlines. So I let it alone for about three weeks and when I got back to it, it was finished in less than a day. Figures.

So, anyway, I hope I can put the next one online at the very beginning of 2011 ;-) I'm very glad you're still with me. Please feel free to bombard me with feedback and criticism ^_~

**Next chapter:** "My mother says it's better to be rude for a few seconds than end up chopped to pieces for a lifetime."


	6. Chapter 6

/\/

**Chapter 6**

/\/

In his dream, the furious mountain appeared before him.

Clouds of powdery snow speeded down the slopes, engulfing the tops of the conifers in the lower parts of Mount Nakadake. It would have been beautiful had it not been illuminated by the greenish glow of the enemy's power. Rock-fall followed in the wake of each collision of energy streaks. The earth shook in reply making their possessors' war seem like the childish power game it was until he couldn't decide anymore whether nature or magic was the real source of terror and raw panic was all that kept him from collapsing.

In the middle of the storm, he could hear a woman's voice whispering.

_Your desire__s will be realized one day…_

She was cowering on the ground before him – a fragile figure in much too thin clothes, long, black hair gliding over her back which she had turned to him. The last stroke had brought her to her knees. She didn't seem to feel the cold of the snow-covered ground, collecting one of the long, black strands in the palm of her hand as if in deep thought.

_Desires are always realized._

The enemy's laughter brought him back.

This was the end, most likely. He had pulled her back from the edge of certain death before, but she wouldn't let him help her this time. He was the enemy now – worse possibly than the one with the eager, green slayer at hand. Desperation seized him, made him reach out for her in spite of what he had to expect if he dared touch her.

Eyes, older than the 27 years of the body… To him, they held a poison even more deadly than the enemy's. Her physical strength wasn't enough to free her hands from his grasp, though, and it made her eyes flash with fear and hatred.

Her words fell like strokes.

Yanking her hands free as forcefully as she could, she all but recoiled from him, her long hair flying with the wind like a black silken flag. His hands fell to his sides, useless. And he was one step behind, just one step when the enemy's unholy flame reached for them both.

The sound of the wind in his ears becoming the raging of a green and silver sea becoming the roaring of a firestorm devouring a castle on a hill with all there was in it –

_You alone I will never forgive. _

"…hara-san! Kasahara-san!"

A face appeared before his eyes, middle-aged, golden against the white of the ceiling above them.

"Sasaki-sensei?" He coughed. He was lying on the futon in the guest room of Dr. Sasaki's flat where he had been staying for several weeks now.

The older man sat back on his heels. "You seem to have had a nightmare. So I chose to wake you."

"It's all right." He could still feel his heart pounding in his chest from what he had seen in his dream even though he couldn't remember. It was pitch dark outside with daybreak still hours away. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to disturb you."

"You didn't," the other ensured. "Would you like me to prepare some herbal tea for a dreamless sleep?"

"No," Kasahara said a bit too quickly. "Forgive me. But for some reason I'm convinced that my dreams revolve around the past, even my nightmares." He closed his eyes for a moment, then shook his head. "I hope to remember them sooner or later."

"Very well, then." Irobe nodded. "I'll see you in the morning." The older man left the room and closed the door behind him.

Kasahara lay back on his futon, his pajamas uncomfortably moist against his skin. Less than ten seconds passed before he closed his eyes to let sleep embrace him and the voices of the past welcome him back.

_I will never forgive you for all eternity. _

/\/

Kagetora wordlessly looked at Irobe when the latter closed the door to Kasahara's room.

"He's all right," the older man remarked by his own accord as if to spare his lord the question.

Kagetora remained quiet for a long minute and then asked: "Have you noticed him having such heavy nightmares before?"

"Occasionally. But it's impossible to tell what triggers them."

"Did he ever confide in you what he dreams about?"

Irobe shook his head. "No, he can never remember them, but he told me…"

"Yes?"

"He believes them to be about the past he cannot remember."

Kagetora answered with a small disbelieving laugh. "Well, I can attest to that. Or rather, Kiheiji can."

It had been his son's scream that had roused Kagetora from his own sleep a short while ago.

"'_**kaa-san!"**_

In seconds, Kagetora had thrown the blankets off himself and was running towards Kiheiji's room.

"_**No, 'kaa-san! Don't leave! Don't go there!"**_

"Kiheiji!" Kagetora fell to his knees besides his restlessly moving son's bed and gingerly grabbed the shoulders of the heavily dreaming boy. "It's a dream. Just a dream. I'm here!"

Kiheiji opened his eyes in which his panic was still being mirrored. "'kaa-san?" he asked and sat up.

"Just a dream," Kagetora repeated gently and smoothed his son's sweaty hair back from his eyes.

Kiheiji seemed unconvinced. His eyes were still widened with fear, but he relaxed a bit under the soft touch. He was bathed in sweat and still breathing heavily.

"Let me get you a new pajama," Kagetora whispered, "you'll catch a cold."

Instead of an answer, Kiheiji's arms wound around his neck. "I was afraid you'd really go. That something would happen to you," he whispered.

Surprised, Kagetora returned the gesture. "What should happen to me?"

Kiheiji shrugged in his mother's embrace. "'twas in the woods," he murmured. "Snow everywhere. You were running from me and I couldn't stop you. You wanted to go where the green light was. I just couldn't do anything."

Kagetora sat there as if transfixed. What Kiheiji had just described, was suspiciously similar in his own rememberance to the happenings on Mount Nakadake ten years ago. There was no logical explanation for Kiheiji knowing about any of this, though. Except that it hadn't been Kiheiji he'd been running from, of course, but –

He leaned back to look at Kiheiji's face. "I'm always right here," he smiled. "Now go back to sleep and dream of something nice."

Kiheiji was fighting his yawns already. Kagetora waited until his son's breathing was deep and even before he sought out Irobe two floors below to discuss his suspicions with his retainer. He felt uneasy about leaving Kiheiji to himself so soon after the young boy's panic attack, but he needed to confirm his inkling rather sooner than later.

Irobe was already awake, it turned out. Obviously, Naoe had woken another member of the household with his bad dreams. Kagetora waited outside, rubbing his icy naked feet together, until Irobe left Kasahara's room and came to him.

"He remembers then," Irobe murmured now after Kagetora had summed up the contents of Kiheiji's nightmare for him. "Not while he's awake, but in sleep his memories aren't blocked, it seems." He threw Kagetora a look. "Is that normal?"

"How would I know?" Kagetora asked back. "It's the first time ever I sealed someone's memory."

They fell quiet for a moment.

"What troubles me far more than Naoe's sensitivities, is that Kiheiji apparently had an insight on this dream."

"If I remember correctly, this happened with your own dreams, too, a couple of times when he was younger."

"Yes, and it wasn't pretty. After that, I took the habit of erecting a mental blockade against the outside before I go to sleep and there haven't been any incidents until now."

"He's an extraordinary child," Irobe mused.

"And Naoe is an extraordinary weight around my neck."

Irobe just gave a dry laugh. "You can hardly expect him to follow your example and block his mind when he's not even aware of –"

"I want him gone, Irobe", Kagetora interrupted. "This cannot continue. I don't care how you accomplish it but he has to be out of here by the end of next week. I cannot deal with this."

So sharp was the look his retainer gave him that Kagetora halfway expected outright objection. But then the older man bowed without a word of dissent, perfect in form, not a muscle moving in his face.

It was Irobe's way to let his lord know that he didn't approve of his decision, but would do as was expected of him anyway.

/\/

Saturdays were boring affairs, Kihieji mused when he dawdled down the stairs for breakfast at Irobe's in the late morning. Since there was no school and his mother usually had to work, he'd spend the day with Aunty Yuiko or Uncle Irobe. When he had been younger, he hadn't understood: "Why does everyone have a free Saturday but you, 'kaa-san?"

She had explained to him it could also happen on a Saturday or Sunday that someone was sick or bleeding or desperately needed an operation, so doctors occasionally had to work on the weekend as well. It was her duty.

She loved that word, he knew. _Duty._ Her eyes took on a faraway impression sometimes when she spoke of how important it was for every man and woman to have a task that fulfilled them. _She_ had obviously found this task and fulfilled it. It made him proud of her.

It gnawed at him, though, that she was so rarely there. In the evening, they'd talk. Or rather, he would do the talking while she listened. But she couldn't hide how tired she was.

Kiheiji bit his lip. It would have been hard to explain since he couldn't fully understand himself, but there were two sides to his mother. There was Kitazato Minako who always had things under control, who knew how things had to be done and ordered other people around most of the time.

And then there was his mom who sat by his bedside when he was sick and came running to him when he would wake screaming from a nightmare. He drew on those rare moments like the night before. She'd even put her arms around him.

Kiheiji jumped down the last steps of the stairs and slipped through the door to Irobe's flat which the old man had left slightly ajar for him. Time for miso soup and rice, not a chance to get some cornflakes in this household. He only ever made it to the corridor, though, when muffled male voices from the living room stopped him.

Damnit. He'd all but forgotten about _him_! On a Saturday, Kasahara wouldn't go to work either and hang around the house all day. Things were off between his mother and her patient, Kiheiji had noticed not without glee. Recently, Minako made even more a point of avoiding their guest than usual. Kiheiji honestly wished he could have done the same, but he and Kasahara were breathing the same air much more often than he would have liked.

Aunty Yuiko and Uncle Irobe weren't minding half as much as he did that the stranger had become part of their group. Irobe in particular acted as if Kasahara had just always been there. Of them all, he was spending by far the most time with Kasahara – which was only natural since the man was even staying in his flat. Obviously, neither of them had realized yet that someone else had come in.

"I feel that I might have offended her," he heard Kasahara say in a downright sorrowful voice.

"How so?"

Kiheji perked up his ears. Things might be looking up if the intruder had finally managed to annoy his mother enough for her not to speak with him anymore. Carefully, he stepped closer towards the living room and peeked around the corner. Uncle Irobe and Kasahara were alone, in there and in deep conversation.

"I don't know how, to be honest," Kasahara remarked with a helpless gesture. "I just noticed the difference in her behaviour ever since our last session."

"Did anything unusual happen during that one?"

"Well, we were talking about relationships and… I'm afraid I somehow managed to upset her. Though I'm not sure by what."

"Relationships," Irobe murmured. What he said besides, Kiheiji couldn't hear, but Kasahara seemed to have come to a decision.

"I guess I should try and apologize."

Ha! Kiheiji folded his arms in front of his chest. As if that would do him any good. If there was one thing Kiheiji knew for sure about his mother then that having fallen out with her once meant to have fallen out with her forever.

/\/

Over the years, Kagetora had developed a knack for avoiding the weekly team meeting at his ward, but today he hadn't found a suitable excuse and suffered in silence. Having participated in reviews and briefings as the leader of the Meikai Uesugi Army for centuries, he was used to issues being dealt with effectively and quickly, but for some reason, such resolutions were not possible for his colleagues. Here, everything had to be discussed over and over again, without ever seeming to come to an end.

Kagetora didn't have the energy to try and change things, especially not today. The conversation he'd had with Irobe the night before kept on bordering him. He knew Irobe didn't approve of his rather sudden resolution to have Kasahara move to another place. But all Kagetora could think of was the look of raw panic on Kiheiji's face to know he had to do something to prevent this from happening again. A certain spatial distance between Kiheiji and his father was the easiest and obvious solution.

However, he couldn't help imagining what Kasahara's reaction would be when he learned that he had to leave the house and the company of the only people close to him. It wasn't his fault that he was having nightmares or that Kiheiji was able to zoom in on them. Neither was it his fault that Kagetora couldn't dare to enlighten him about any of this. It was – Kagetora sighed – first and foremost his own fault that Kiheiji was having nightmares, that Irobe was displeased with him and that Kasahara would be aggrieved. He felt very much like breaking something.

"Kitazato-sensei?"

"Hm?"

Damn, they were all looking at him. Somebody must have asked him something. Kagetora was abashed that they had to repeat the question for him. Thankfully, a smoking break was next on schedule. He followed the other smokers outside into the small garden of the west wing, the only woman in their group. The others had gotten used to it. Most of them smoked in silence, Sato and Ihara struck up a conversation on the anaesthetics currently in use.

Near the end of the short break, however, Kagetora who was lingering in the hope to miss as much of the rest of the meeting as possible noticed that Yoshida was lingering with him. That wasn't so unusual. The thin, long-bodied man liked to give off the impression that they were on especially good terms.

"Do you still have that patient from Kobe?" Yoshida asked now.

"Yes." _Unfortunately. _

"You sure spend a lot of time with that fellow, don't you," Yoshida remarked. "I hear he even stays at your place."

Inwardly bristeling, Kagetora just looked at the man. Why couldn't his colleagues just mind their own business? It was mystery to him how such rumours could be spreading that quickly. "He is staying with Sasaki-sensei," he corrected calmly.

Yoshida didn't seem that much interested in his reply, though. "You have something there…"

Kagetora looked up at Yoshida who was suddenly looming close and felt his breath catch in his chest.

/\/

When Kasahara arrived at the hospital, he still had no idea how to go about his apology. Sasaki hadn't been much of an help, either. At best, he had probably wondered why a grown man such as Kasahara was behaving like a schoolboy and searching for guidance when it came to approaching a woman who might be cross with him.

Kasahara was in awe of Minako – of her cleverness, of her self-restraint and sense of duty. For a while, he had even entertained the thought, that it might have been her he'd had somewhere in the back of his mind when he'd believed that someone important was waiting for him. Why not? Maybe he'd talked to her right before the avalanche and later was worried whether she'd come out of it. That seemed plausible to him.

But there was more to it. Ever since had met Minako that day between the remains of her district he had a felt that she was wary of him. It wasn't exactly dislike that he was met with but an extreme cautiousness she emitted when dealing with him.

Her recent strange behaviour towards him fit into that pattern. On the other hand, now that she showed so clearly that something was wrong, Kasahara had a reason to talk to her about it. She eluded him, though. Minako hadn't scheduled another session since and it had been nearly two weeks since the one which had ended so badly. At home, it was practically impossible to talk to her. The kid saw to that.

So he'd decided to seek her out at her working place – where she spent most of her time anyway. But she wasn't at her office when he got there.

"Excuse me," he approached the nurse on duty. "Is Kitazato-sensei not in today?"

"She is," the woman nodded and gave him a friendly smile. "But she's attending a meeting as we speak. She should be out in about an hour."

Kasahara decided to wait for the end of the meeting. It suited him just fine that he had some additional time to think up what he wanted to say to her when he saw her. He chose to pay the small flower garden a visit which he had often watched from Minako's office during their sessions.

Upon entering the garden, he became aware that someone else was there already. They were standing so close that he first believed there to be only one person. Then, however, the man who was shielding the smaller figure of the woman from his view, turned around.

Kasahara opened his mouth intending to apologize for his intrusion, but closed it again in astonishment when he realized that the woman was Minako.

/\/

This was beyond embarrassing, Kagetora decided. What an unfortunate coincidence that Naoe had to show up now. Yoshida was still leaning slightly towards him and looked at Kasahara none too friendly. As for himself, he could only look from one man to another in shocked silence.

What on earth was Kasahara thinking now? That he had walked in on them? That Minako had a secret flirtation with a colleague going on? This was definitely not the impression he wanted to give. It was the kind of thing that made him feel stained. And he just knew he was looking guilty – even if there wasn't the slightest reason for it.

Yoshida wasn't too pleased at Kasahara turning up either. "I don't think we've met," he said briskly.

Kagetora's eyes narrowed. Yoshida obviously did think of Kasahara as an intruder on his own time with his colleague.

"Yoshida-sensei, this is Kasahara Yuuto, a patient of mine." As a sudden idea, he added: "I asked him to meet me here around noon."

Kasahara who of course recognized this to be a white lie gave Yoshida a friendly smile and lifted a brow as if asking him what he was standing around for.

"Well," Yoshida cleared his throat. "Don't be late for the rest of our meeting, Minako-san." Adjusting his spectacles, he stalked off.

/\/

They found themselves left alone with each other on the corridor.

Kasahara was the first to speak, after clearing his throat. "Actually I came here today because I want to apologize."

She looked at him sharply. "What do you want to apologize for?"

"I don't know," he couldn't suppress the tiniest smile."It just seems important that I do."

Maybe she was contemplating his sanity, now. She had tilted her head as if she was, he thought.

"Anyway, I hereby apologize in case I said or did something during the last session that offended you. I don't know what happened there, but the mood has been so strange ever since... We haven't had another session since then either."

"That's hardly your fault," Minako said curtly. "I've been extremely busy during the last weeks."

"I know you've been working a lot. So I thought, maybe we shouldn't schedule another meeting here… You see enough of your workplace already, don't you? I thought maybe we could go out for dinner."

There, he'd said it. Without stammering or otherwise embarrassing himself beyond what was bearable.

Minako had gone very still meanwhile. She avoided his gaze and looked at the half-smoked cigarette between her fingers instead. As if trying to make a point, she stubbed out the weed against the windowsill.

"I have to go back. My colleagues will wonder where I'm staying."

"They know, I'm your special case, don't they?" He smiled. She wasn't going to say yes, not today. But she hadn't said no either. Nor had she given him any I'm-your-doctor-and-I-don't-think-it's-appropriate blah blah.

"They know that if I'm running late you're probably the one who's keeping me and might just decide to kick you out."

"Your colleague with the specs looked like he wanted to do just that," he remarked lightly. It flattered him in an unhealthy way that this man who was quite obviously interested in Minako would perceive him as competition.

"Are you not afraid?" she threw over her shoulder as she already turned around in order to get back to her meeting.

Kasahara froze.

He was dimly aware of Minako continuing to speak, but the first words seemed to echo in the back of his mind and he listened intently until they drowned any other noise in his environment.

_Are you not afraid?_

Who'd said that? When? He couldn't even tell whether it had been a male or a female voice. But he had heard these words before as surely as he had heard them only seconds ago. His blood was pounding in his ears.

He became aware of Minako having turned around to him, eying him curiously. And all of a sudden, her eyes narrowed.

"Kasahara-san? What is it?"

/\/

At home, Kagetora went into Irobe's flat instead of his own. He closed the door and lent with his back against it to continue brooding as he had been doing for the last half hour way from the hospital. He didn't look up when he heard Irobe step on the corridor, apparently having prepared dinner and waiting for the rest of the household.

Kiheiji was at the music school, his retainer informed him, but they could expect him back any minute now. He broke off when he became aware of the grave look on Kagetora's face.

„I did something extremely stupid today."

Irobe didn't ask just nodded at him to go on.

Kagetora shook his head. "I wasn't thinking. It just slipped out. But honestly, how am I supposed to keep in mind the details of every conversation we ever had? I can't foresee which comments will have which effect on him."

Irobe just raised a brow. Finally realizing that the older man couldn't make sense of his ramblings, Kagetora made an impatient gesture with the flat of his hand. "There isn't much to tell. We were talking about something when we were leaving the hospital earlier today. I was walking ahead and in doing so, I halfway turned around to him and said –" He faltered. "Well, the important thing is that I said just that when we met for the first time, after the _otate_, I mean, and with the very same gesture. It didn't quite occur to me until he stared at me like that. He remembered, I think. Not me or the circumstances, but hearing the words somewhere before."

He pressed his finger tips against the bridge of his nose. "And this is only the beginning, isn't it? What's he doing right now if not brooding over what he heard today and trying to figure out where he heard it before?"

„Kagetora-sama," Irobe phrased carefully, „you will have to tell him sooner or later – or at least let him in on part of it all. He's like a blind person. We cannot even make sure whether he is still able to use his powers."

"Why shouldn't he?"

"So what will happen when he rediscovers them? By keeping his real identity from him, you're endangering him – and making him a liability to us."

Kagetora looked up at him, reading between the lines of what Irobe was actually saying. "You think it cruel, don't you? What I am doing."

Irobe remained silent for a little while as he searched for the right words and finally settled on: "I think it's obvious that Kasahara is very fond of you." _And you nothing but lie to him._

Kagetora winced. "Not of me," he corrected. "But of what he believes me to be." He thought he might see the shadow of a smile ghost over Irobe's tired features and sent him a distrustful gaze.

"Despite the fact that he doesn't remember anything and you currently bear no resemblance whatsoever to any other person you ever possessed his affections fell on you again. That should give you food for thought."

Kagetora contemplated answering that Naoe hadn't meant him then, either, but the idolized image he beheld of him to be both feared and loved, hated and admired. He had never been able to quite get his brain around this infatuation of Naoe's. Neither could he comprehend Kasahara's obvious inclination towards his current self.

"You're basically saying that his soul somehow recognized mine and my famous inner values are what draw him to me?"

Irobe sighed. "Well, you can bet it's not your exterior that attracts him."

"Now what's that supposed to mean?" Kagetora rose in defence of his dead lover's pale but sweet looks.

Irobe held up his hands. "I just meant that most women make an effort on their appearance and Kasahara can't have missed by now that you don't."

Kagetora blinked. For most of their doctor colleagues it was an achievement to take a daily shower and regularly brsuh their teeth. Working in shifts of thirty-six hours made appearances seem overrated. It was one of the things that Kagetora appreciated about working at a hospital: you didn't have to dress up.

"Look, I'm doing what I can here", he said to Irobe. "Which is about enough or Haruie would have given me a piece of her mind already."

Nevertheless, he slowly stepped in front of the mirror and looked up and down his reflection. It was true that he had never given a damn about clothing or hairstyles– partly because of his own reluctance towards his outwardly female identity and partly because Minako hadn't been a vain person, either – but that didn't prejudice the attractiveness of her face or figure in the slightest. No matter how little of an effort he made where his appearance was concerned, underneath the baggy clothes, her body was as dainty and well-toned as a ballet-dancer's. Nothing suggested that it had born a child.

But was that really enough to rouse the interest of a man like Kasahara who – according to his own words – was fairly popular with the other sex himself? What could a man like him want from a single mother well in her thirties who wore nothing but blue jeans and baggy shirts all the time? It was a mystery indeed. Maybe he was feeling sorry for her since she never seemed to get out much?

In deep thought, Kagetora stepped closer towards the mirror. Her face was pale, it always had been: oval and fine-boned, with completely unblemished skin. Her eyes – her loveliest feature – were gone, of course. He had taken care not to cross paths with any old acquaintance of Minako's. They would have noticed at once, even if their minds couldn't have supplied them with a guess at what had happened. Of course not. It was just too monstrous for any normal person to imagine.

_I will never forgive you for all eternity. _

Those words had been meant for Naoe, the very last words Kagetora had spoken to him before Naoe became another… If you didn't count the words of incantation, that was.

But Kasahara, Naoe's alter ego, had nothing to do with any of this. His ignorance protected him of his lord's wrath – at least, most of the time it did. It irked Kagetora sometimes that he himself should carry all these painful memories with him while Naoe was freed from the past… freed by Kagetora's own hand, nonetheless.

Then again, this freedom came at a price. Not remembering also meant to be looking for the ugly truths one had been spared. Apparently, it brought nightmares and all kinds of social handicaps. Naoe, after all, didn't realize that he might be better off without his memories.

And a few times – when he looked into those familiar eyes wearing such an _un_familiar expression, so guileless, so confident, so untainted by all wrongs of the past – Kagetora felt a weird gentleness creep over himself at the sight of what Naoe might have been if he hadn't had the misfortune of meeting _him_ at a certain point in his existence.

He'd quickly extinguished the feeling the two or three times this had happened. This rapist, this murderer, he surely deserved everything he had suffered and worse.

But now things were in motion again. Whether Kagetora liked it or not, his attitude and feelings towards Kasahara wasn't what it had been towards Naoe when they'd parted ten years ago. He found that he didn't like the prospect of the peaceful expression in Naoe's eyes slowly being killed off, a little more with each slip of tongue, with each uncomfortable memory that returned.

/\/

It was just a tiny nagging feeling in the back of his mind, but Kasahara wasn't able to shake it off. Apart from rolling the words in his head over and over again, Minako's reaction to his own astonishment wouldn't leave him alone.

She had noticed his reaction to her question. She had understood at once what was going on inside his head. This could either mean that she was unusually skilled at watching people – which her profession might just explain. Or that she could somehow refer to the very memory that had been stirred…

Which implied that she must have been there when he had heard those words for the first time. On Nakadake Mountain? It seemed unlikely that of all memories he should stumble upon one connected to her.

So – had he been afraid? What had the question then aimed at? And had Minako been the one to utter it in his direction?

Her face wouldn't disappear from his inner eye, not even among the crowds of Shinjuku. The expression she had worn haunted him. Dawning understandment probably described it best. But there had been something else underneath, something very akin to fright.

She'd had the very look of someone who just realized having committed a grave mistake.

/\/

**Author's Note:** On March 11, the original version of this chapter was as good as finished. Actually, I went to my computer to make the last changes and then put it online when I saw the headlines on the internet about the Sendai earthquake… I'm not superstitious or anything but still, the fact that I'd written about an earthquake in a story set in Japan and then the real thing happening a few months later made me feel a bit queasy. For a few weeks I was unsure whether I shouldn't take this story down for good, but decided against it. I love it too much for that.

So, I practically rewrote this chapter since the first version contained a lot of earthquake references and I just felt that was inappropriate. Originally, a few old acquaintances were supposed to step on the scene in this chapter, but this will have to happen later for the above-mentioned reasons.

I'm really sorry that you had to wait so long this time for an update! I hope you like the new chapter and will continue reading the future ones!


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: **Any sane person would have kept Kōsaka out of this. Oh, well ^_~

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

/\/

Predictably, his first thought when he halfway came to, went along the lines of: _Damn you to hell, Mori Ranmaru..._

It hurt.

Everything hurt.

And as if that hadn't been enough, there were people all around him at all possible and impossible times, talking about him over his head, pulling at his limbs, moving his luckless body around and blinding his eyesight with tiny lighters. He guessed the latter was for them to check out the reaction of his pupils, to make sure he hadn't turned into a vegetable.

_Damn you all. _

He slept most of the time, when he wasn't being pushed around by these low-lives that was. In fact, he couldn't remember ever sleeping that much in centuries. Maybe they were drugging him. It was impossible to establish how many days had passed when he woke up with a clear head for the first time. He decided that he was hungry and thirsty and he really wanted a bath. It didn't bring as much pain as he'd expected when he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He didn't get dizzy either. Good.

Sunlight flooded the room, illuminating the apricot-coloured walls and the wooden furniture. A private hospital room? His host must have had a very good health insurance, Kōsaka Danjo thought, the irony of the whole situation not being lost on him. It seemed somewhat ridiculous that he should lie here comfortably while the victims of the latest clash between two bunches of possessors had to bite the dust.

Staring off into space, he started to remember his last conscious moments in detail: _Early morning, the usual pall of smog already settling in over the capital of Japan... Running... running from Ranmaru and his minions, the shame of it, but he was above such sentiments, always had been, they had called him the Nige Danjo for a reason after all... Fallen leaves on a pathway in a city park, they came after him, he turned around, making a stand... Forces clashing, the earth trembling underneath their feet, the tremors rippling forth from the epicentre in waves ...voices screaming and he was falling, searing pain shooting through his head..._

Wincing, he got up from the bed and padded towards the door on bare feet. If the Oda were after him, they hadn't done a very good job of searching for him, he thought. He wasn't sure in how far he could rely on his sense of time, but their battle felt like weeks ago. Maybe months. He couldn't say for sure how badly he had been wounded or who had found him and brought him here.

And where was "here" anyway? Was he still in Tokyo?

For the first time he became truly aware of his surroundings. The place was literally crawling with human presences. His mind open and vulnerable after his long unconsciousness, he could instantly sense a variety of entities and emotions around him. It was more than slightly unpleasant. He was still busy disentangling the singular threads when a familiar presence emerged from the web and rooted him to the spot.

_It can't be...?_

As usual, when he encountered another possessor – sensing them nearby without laying his eyes on them – his head was empty of names for the first seconds and instead came up with a selection of prominent features, the essence of his own experiences with the person in question to date.

Kōsaka Danjo was convinced he would have recognized this particular pattern on a cold day in hell – last but not least because he had been searching for this very person.

/\/

"All right," Haruie said, stirring the spoon in her coffee cup without taking her eyes off Kagetora, "tell me again: he asked if you'll go out with him. For dinner. Just like that."

"I never should have told you about any of this in the first place," Kagetora sighed. They were sitting in his office at the hospital where he had spent his lunch break with Haruie and Kiheiji. The latter had wandered off, however, doubtlessly spending his pocket money on future tooth decay again.

Normally, Kagetora enjoyed those rare visits from his son and his supposed sister in law during his midday break. But today he didn't feel too well. In the morning, he had awoken with the feeling of having swallowed a spoonful of sand. As a doctor, he had access to medication of any kind, but nevertheless around noon he felt alternately hot and cold and his limbs hurt. _Tonsilitis, _he mused. _Now that's all I needed. _A good thing that he didn't have to see any patients this afternoon and was stuck with paperwork so nobody would catch it from him.

Either way, he didn't feel up to discussing Naoe's latest follies and what the latter might by thinking in all shady details. Haruie on the other hand seemed to find the proceedings in the Kasahara case wildly entertaining.

"You didn't say yes," she noted.

"Right."

"But you didn't say no, either. Which means he'll get back to the date topic sooner or later."

"We weren't talking about a date. He only suggested that we meet somewhere else for a change."

Haruie blinked. "Look, it's a date he was talking about. I mean, maybe _you _weren't talking about one, but _he _was. It's kind of obvious for everyone that he's into you."

Kagetora shook his head. "Not for me."

"Why, that doesn't mean much, does it? You never notice when someone's interested. You didn't with this Yoshida guy either" – Haruie held up her winkled hand way above her head referring to Yoshida's most prominent feature as if Kagetora could have forgotten who they were talking about – "until he made a move on you yesterday, right?"

"I'm still not sure whether I just misunderstood something," Kagetora side-stepped the implications.

"Oh, but I am. Probably there were signs of his intentions before and you just didn't realize because you never do."

"Well, one time he started rambling to me about how important it is for young boys to have a male role model and how he always wanted a son of his own…"

"And that didn't make you wonder?"

Kagetora sighed again and snuggled deeper into the wool cardigan he was wearing under the onslaught of a new shivering attack. It would be hard to talk his boss into giving him a day off, he mused. But if he made it through this day and slept well tonight, he might be spared a fully-fledged breakout of angina.

_Not nearly enough vitamins recently,_ he thought with regret. _I'm constantly watching out for Kiheiji eating enough fruit and vegetables but when it comes to me, I'm slacking. _

Haruie flipped back her hair, a bemused look on her face. "Quite gutsy of Kasahara to ask you out just like that, isn't it?" She smiled. "You know when Irobe first told me that you want Naoe to leave, I wasn't too happy about it. But now I think you can do it."

"Do what?"

"Kick him out. Yep," she nodded, "it should be all right. He'll come back for a positive answer to his dinner invitation – so you can keep an eye on him."

There was another possibility, Kagetora mused. Maybe Kasahara would decide Minako wasn't worth the trouble after all and go back to the casual relationships he had told him about in one of their sessions. Or maybe he would do that anyway? Maybe he had never stopped seeing other women?

And anyhow: who could know for sure that the respect Kasahara obviously had for his doctor had a romantic undertone at all? It was true – Kagetora usually didn't notice when someone developed an interest in him. Or – as Nagahide had once thrown at him during a fight – he was exceptionally good at burying his head in the sand. But did that mean that the others automatically had a clearer view in this case?

_You __could all just assume that he cares for me because he used to in the past. You see what you're used to see. _

He didn't share any of these thoughts with Haruie, though, who got up from her chair, ready to leave.

"Now where have we left that son of yours?"

/\/

To think that he had been looking for Kagetora in all the wrong places, Kōsaka mused while he slowly made his way through crowded hospital corridors, and when he wasn't thinking of his quest at all he would stumble across him. And find him… very close by, too… Or at least – at first it seemed that it was unmistakably him. Coming closer to the source of the presence, Kōsaka could feel doubt seeping into his mind.

This wasn't something that happened very often when it came to establishing the reincarnations of people he had fought against and alongside with over the last centuries. Actually, this never happened since there was no such thing as a doublet when it came to human souls. This kind of similarity only would have been possible between individuals and their direct ancestors or descendants – and honestly, what were the odds of stumbling across a soul that had been in direct relationship with Kagetora during his original lifetime?

He entered a small cafeteria on the floor above the one on which his room was situated and instantly found his eyes drawn to a small, slender figure next to the vending machine. Maybe this solved the mystery? He hadn't encountered a Kagetora this young ever since those long-gone days when Hōjō Ujiyasu-dono had given the nine-year-old into the care of Kōsaka's master, Takeda Shingen.

This boy here couldn't be much older. Coming closer, he found that the child's aura was similar to what he remembered Kagetora's to be like, but still different. That didn't just come from him being very young. He was sure he would have recognized Kagetora on his worst day, but this one –

_No…_

"Excuse me."

The boy turned around.

_Yes. No. _

Kōsaka opened his mouth, preparing a nonchalant question and stopped dead in his tracks only to conclude that his very first impression must have been correct after all. A pair of only too familiar golden eyes sought out his and took on a non-too-friendly expression at being interrupted.

"Er… do you know where I can find a telephone here?" He winced inwardly at the less than brilliant approach. He _did _feel a bit shaken by recent events.

The boy wordlessly pointed towards the opposite wall.

"Are you visiting somebody here?" Kōsaka asked, trying his luck at small talk.

"I don't think that's any of your business."

"And I think that's kind of a rude way to talk to strangers."

The amber eyes returned to him, a mirror image of Kagetora's. "My mother says it's better to be rude for five seconds than end up chopped to pieces for a lifetime."

Kōsaka felt his mouth twitch. While the dangers the streets of Tokyo provided children with these days were hardly a laughing matter, most parents at least would have tried to mince matters here.

_I'd like to meet that woman. _

"Oh, I agree. But if I were going to kidnap you, I would go about it a little more subtle."

"Then what do you want?"

Kōsaka smiled. No. He wasn't dealing with Kagetora here all right. Even at this tender age, a reincarnation of the lord of the Uesugi would have remembered his true identity and his mission. Kagetora wouldn't have tried to fool him – neither would he have been able to. This small body housed another soul – one Kōsaka probably had never come across before.

_But t__his similarity is striking. And he has Kagetora's eyes, too..._ He looked around, searching for a topic.

"Just to talk a bit."

There was an obvious key to the mystery of how a mini version of Kagetora walked the streets of Tokyo. But that would be nothing short of an outrage: Uesugi Kagetora of all people violating the greatest taboo in the world of possessors! _Never would have thought he had it in him, _Kōsaka thought almost respectfully.

_Come to think of it, __there were indeed rumours of Kagetora living with a woman prior to the Uesugi-Oda battle on Kyushu. Could she be the kid's mother? My, still waters run deep, don't they? _Kōsaka couldn't suppress an anticipating smile. Kagetora would _so _never live this one down.

The existence of this child would also explain why there hadn't been a sign of the Uesugi army ever since that battle in which Oda Nobunaga had nearly lost his life. Kagetora had been busy otherwise, it seemed – and for good reason.

_Power,_ Kōsaka thought. He could feel it in the small body before him, slumbering, not yet awakened, but anyhow abundant. The age-old main argument for the strict interdiction of possessors procreating had just been proven sound and solid.

/\/

_Weirdo, _Kiheiji thought. As if he hadn't been plagued enough with the crank currently occupying both Irobe's guest room and his mother's free time... He really didn't need strange people chatting him up out of the blue. Adults just weren't supposed to do that. So maybe this person – who was obviously a patient around here, maybe even a mental one – was just bored or lonely, but Kiheiji found that he could have picked someone else for talking.

Plus, he didn't like the way this man was watching him: as if he knew something about him that Kiheiji himself didn't. It didn't actually scare him, but it was a tiny little bit unsettling. It reminded him of the talks his mother had had with him a couple of years ago about strange men who might approach him and try to talk him into going somewhere with them. Technically, this oddball hadn't tried to harm him, but there was something disquieting about the whole situation.

He couldn't help feeling somewhat relieved at the sound of steps on high heels nearing quickly.

"Kiheiji!"

Turning away from the stranger, he saw Yuiko rushing towards them. Halfway there, her eyes fell on Kiheiji's chat partner.

"You!" she sputtered. "So it _is _you. I thought I had sensed –" She seemed to bite her tongue.

"A good day to you, too." The man downright smirked at her.

Yuiko flashed Kiheiji a quick look.

"Yes." The eyes of the stranger followed the movement. "I already had the pleasure of meeting the youngest member of your crew." He smiled at the boy. "Kiheiji, is it? What an interesting choice of name." He shook his head in a mixture of irony and disbelief looking from Kiheiji back to Yuiko. "Oh my. Father dearest can't have been very pleased with Kagetora after such a stunt, can he?"

"Why, you –"

_Father? _Kiheiji thought.

The weirdo laughed at Yuiko's obvious irritation. "Is that why there hasn't been a sign of you people in nearly ten years? Because fearless leader was preoccupied?"

"Now how about you mind your own damn business and beat it the hell out of here?"

Kiheiji stared. Never before had he heard his aunt use such language – not even when she was pulling the old witches in their apartment building to pieces.

As if on cue, both adults fell silent after this outburst. Yuiko was frowning, the strange man made a face as if listening very intently to a sound that only he could hear. Looking around in the cafeteria himself for what it could be they might have heard, Kiheiji found himself at a loss. He discovered something else, though, in the back end of the room.

His mother was coming.

/\/

Kasahara Yuuto couldn't concentrate.

There was a wavering pile of customer files in front of him on his desk, but he couldn't bring himself to touch it just yet. Thankfully, it was a quiet day at his office so his staring off into space hadn't roused any comments or weird looks so far.

Sasaki-sensei's disclosure had been very diplomatic, but it had still given Kasahara a shock. Of course, it was ridiculous to assume that they would put up with him staying at their house for an indefinite period of time. He'd always known that he would have to leave sooner or later. Sasaki-san had left no doubt, however, about who had been the driving force behind their sudden decision.

She bewildered him. On one hand she obviously wanted him gone, on the other she hadn't downright refused his dinner invitation... Or had she just been too surprised at his nerve? Was this invitation maybe the reason why she wanted him to leave?

"Kasahara-san?"

He looked up to see his manager's new assistant stand in front of his desk. She was in her early twenties, a sweet, good-natured girl who was delighted at having found a reasonably well-paid job in an environment which allowed her to keep an eye out for suitable marriage candidates with a decent income.

"Yamamoto-shacho asks you to join his meeting with the colleagues from the marketing department at four o'clock."

"Thank you." He smiled at her although the prospect of a meeting with the marketing folks could hardly improve his mood.

She gave a bright smile in reply and went back to her manager's office. Kasahara sighed inwardly. Why couldn't Minako be a bit more like this? A bit more friendly, a bit more… _accessible_. But if so, would she be Minako anymore? Her aloofness was part of what made her attractive.

He was just dying to know what was going on behind this ivory forehead of hers. Especially with regard to their last encounter. The words still echoed through his mind every now and then.

_Are you not afraid? _

When she hadn't turned him down right away after he'd asked her out, he had been ecstatic for a couple of minutes. But then those words – casually thrown at him – had triggered something inside his head. A memory? Who had said that to him and when?

It was an unnerving thought, but he couldn't shake the impression that Minako knew more about this than she let on. She had clearly been a bit frightened when she understood that he must have remembered something from his past.

Maybe this incident was the key to why she wanted to keep him at a distance? She had always been wary of him, right from the start. But this was different. What was she afraid of?

/\/

Many years had passed since they had last met. Kōsaka Danjo had possessed a new body – or several – in the meantime. But then, Kagetora thought with a whiff of gallows humour, his own appearance had to be even more outlandish in Kōsaka's eyes.

In spite of his mind becoming more and more feverish and his limbs hurting more with each minute, Kagetora found that he could enjoy the rare spectacle of Kōsaka Danjo at a loss for words. Nevertheless, he fiercely hoped that Takeda Shingen's right hand man wouldn't make any stupid remarks in front of Kiheiji.

"I see you've met my son, Kōsaka." No need to try and conceal the facts, not in front of him anyway. Kōsaka's abilities would have enabled him to see right through this sort of charade.

The Takeda general just stared at him through narrowed eyes. Kagetora could imagine how the wheels were turning behind his forehead as he tried to figure out what was going on. Haruie was watching him likewise from slightly widened eyes. Two hectic red spots had appeared on her cheeks. As for Kiheiji, his gaze dashed between his mother and the stranger conveying a curious mixture of irritation and wariness.

Kagetora wanted nothing more than clench his fists but refrained from it. This was precisely the situation he had always wished to avoid at all possible costs: a member of the enemy faction finding out about his son. And not just anyone had to show up but a strong psychic who could easily detect what exactly was the connection between himself and this child. Kiheiji wasn't ready for Yami Sengoku and all its less respectable characters. Damn it, _he _wasn't ready.

Nevertheless, he surprised himself by calmly asking: "What leads you here?"

"Accident", Kōsaka murmured as if lost in thought.

Kagetora raised a brow. Did that mean he had come here by accident or that he'd actually been in one? He looked at him more thoroughly. Kōsaka was wearing a hospital gown, it seemed.

"But I was looking for you anyway," the Takeda general added, finally shaking himself out of his rumination.

"Were you now?" Looking for him? What did that mean? He nodded at Haruie to take Kiheiji away with her. She obviously didn't feel like leaving him alone with Kōsaka but understood the necessity for Kiheiji to be brought elsewhere.

Kiheiji, too, looked like he wanted to object. Kagetora forestalled him by lightly remarking: "You two go home now. I'll see you in the evening."

"But –"

Haruie quickly grabbed the boy's hand and bend down to whisper something to him. Kiheji let himself be led away, though not without turning around a couple of times.

Kōsaka was watching the child go. "You know, when I first sensed him, I took the youngster for you."

This phenomenon wasn't news to Kagetora. Haruie had remarked more than once that their presences felt _very _alike, even more so as Kiheiji was growing older.

"They put you in a room?" he asked curtly.

"Er... yes."

"Then go there. I've a job here, I can't stand around and chat. We'll talk later if I have to."

"Yes, you have to." Kōsaka's voice was grave in spite of the flippant tone. "And you'll be very interested in what I have to say, believe me."

/\/

"I don't think it's a good idea to leave my mother alone with that – person", Kiheiji blurted out in lack of a better word and threw his Auntie Yuiko a dark look. Of course, it had been out of the question to argue with his mother when she took that commanding tone as she had earlier when sending him away. But at least he could voice his apprehension towards Yuiko.

"Who's he anyway?" Kiheiji tried to investigate. "You know him, don't you?"

Yuiko didn't answer at once. She was practically running through the corridors of the hospital as if she couldn't get him out of the place quickly enough. Leading him through the main entrance, she was throwing a look back to where they'd come from.

"I know him, yes," she finally said. "He was an acquaintance of your father."

"Huh? My father was friends with that guy?" Weirdoes from his parents' past were recently popping up like mushrooms.

"Not exactly friends," Yuiko started as she directed her steps towards Kiheji's home, practically dragging him along.

Kiheiji's eyes widened. "Don't tell me he was in the avalanche, too!"

"Certainly not. Your father and this man – his name is Kōsaka – used to live in the same place for several years when your father was... young."

Oh. Sleepovers at Tatsu's place came to mind. "So they _were _friends. Why else would my father stay with that guy?"

"It was a bit different." Yuiko looked as if she regretted having mentioned any of this in the first place. "He had to go and live with these people when he was about your age because... well, because of the war."

"But that was before my father even met my mother! How come this creep knows her? And she knows him!" None of this made any sense, Kiheiji thought grumpily.

Yuiko seemed to be at a slight loss for explanations. She was trying to make all of this sound rational, but to Kiheiji it was obvious that her thoughts were elsewhere. Most probably she was worried about Minako, too. Something bothered her. The sudden appearance of that Kōsaka guy had startled – or even frightened her.

Kiheiji had enough.

With as much force as he could muster, he yanked at her arm while simultaneously rooting himself to the spot. Taken aback, Yuiko stood still as well and looked at him.

"Tell me," Kiheji demanded trying to employ the imperious look he had seen on his mother many times before.

Yuiko's facial expression was hard to decipher. He found something akin to pity there, but also traces of amusement, affection and nervousness.

"Kiheiji." She bent down towards him and smoothed his bangs back from his face. The gesture felt almost apologetic. "Maybe it's best if you talk to your mother about all this when she gets home tonight."

/\/

Kōsaka merely shook his head when Kagetora met him in the early evening in the entrance hall of the hospital and demanded to know what his earlier hints had been all about. "First things first. I have to figure this out or I'll wreck my brains about it."

"I can think of greater losses."

Kōsaka, however, was much too much engrossed in presenting the theories he had come up with over the last hours to be offended. "Let me take a guess, you possessed this body because a male one wasn't around when you died and you didn't know it was carrying a child?"

Kagetora wordlessly shook his head.

"No?" Kōsaka raised a brow. "You... conceived him yourself?"

Kagetora threw him a _look. _"No."

"Am I correct to assume that you bore him, though? With the body you're currently possessing?" Kōsaka gave him a quick once-over.

Kagetora could feel his patience wear paper-thin. In addition, his head felt as if it might split open any minute now. Swallowing hurt and there was a fine film of sweat all over his skin. Going to work tomorrow after a good night's sleep seemed more and more unlikely.

Again, Kōsaka wasn't waiting for his answer. "It was a wise decision to keep him in hiding from the other clans. Or are you keeping him a secret from your father?" He clicked his tongue almost compassionately. "You really think Kenshin could be so unfeeling and order you to give him away?"

It was completely beyond Kagetora how Kōsaka managed to wheedle out such deeply personal details without him actually revealing anything. Then again, the Nige Danjo wasn't quite as perceptive as he believed himself to be. Kōsaka knew Naoe very well after all – and still he hadn't made the other connection regarding Kiheiji's parentage. But of course this was only a matter of time.

It was not to overlook that this possessor's child was a matter of great interest to Kōsaka – as it would be to anyone else in Yami Sengoku who might find out about it. Kagetora felt cold all of a sudden. The gods only knew whom Kōsaka might tell about Kiheiji. Maybe it would be best to move to a safe place with kith and kin this very night, he thought, involuntarily flinging his arms around himself.

"Is everything all right, Minako-san?" asked a voice Kagetora easily recognized as belonging to Yoshida-sensei.

_Oh no. _"Yes, of course," he answered in what he hoped to be a calm and polite way. Turning around, he could see his colleague stepping towards them, his apprehensive gaze shifting from Kagetora to Kōsaka.

_Is he keeping an eye on me? He__'s probably wondering how many men there are in my life after all!_

"May we be of assistance to you, sir?" Yoshida asked.

Kagetora winced at the blatant possessiveness as well as the attempt at displaying a unified front against the stranger. "Yoshida-sensei, the gentleman was a friend of my late husband's." He tried to put just the right measure of piety and silent mourning into that sentence.

Unfortunately, Yoshida was immune to such connotations. Bowing curtly towards Kōsaka who returned the gesture with a sardonic smile tugging at his lips, he turned his attention towards Kagetora again.

"You do look rather exhausted, Minako-san," he remarked, his gaze turning apprehensive. "Don't overwork yourself," he added. "Maybe you should try to get some rest before resuming your tasks?"

"Thank you, Yoshida-sensei, I'll consider this." _It's really none of your business what I'm doing!_

"You might well be running a fever from the look of it..."

Drawing back reflexively, Kagetora watched Yoshida extend a hand towards him as if intending to feel his forehead for high temperature. It was then that Kagetora resorted to something he had never done before at his working place. He used hypnosis.

He didn't utter a single word, but Yoshida's face went blank from one second to another. Next thing, an expression appeared there which suggested that he had just remembered a very important appointment elsewhere.

"Please excuse me," he politely took his leave and left them to mind their own business.

"Neat," Kōsaka who was quite aware of what had happened remarked with an acknowledging nod of the head. But he paused after taking a look at Kagetora's face. "Are you really ill?"

"Getting there," Kagetora answered brusquely. Hypnosis was a consumptive exercise. The bustling around them didn't help much either. Visiting hours were nearing their end and the entrance hall was filling up with people heading for the gates. "Let's go for a walk." He didn't wait for Kōsaka's answer and moved towards the doors.

Outside, the sun was setting in a rapture of gold and violet, making even the tattered surroundings of his work place bearable for a while. From the corner of his eye he could see Kōsaka who had fallen into step beside him form a _mudra_ with his hands to prevent the people around them from listening in on their conversation.

"Tell me about this accident you were in," Kagetora requested.

"Oh, that. Well, I accidentally stumbled into an assembly of old acquaintances. Long time no see of the Oda clan, I must say."

"Oda," Kagetora repeated. "You met followers of Nobunaga here in Tokyo? Why didn't you say so at once?"

"Why so surprised? Did you expect them to just expire? They sure haven't lost the knack, I'll give them that..."

Something clicked in Kagetora's mind. "The earthquake two months ago? That was you?"

"To be precise, it was me and that walking hole in the head Mori Ranmaru. Two months has it been already?"

"Damn it," Kagetora cursed furiously. "People died! A few streets from here the ground split open! We're still tending to the injured. Can't you watch it a bit where you're fighting?" He didn't mention that he and his son had been in the middle of it as well.

"No, not when a whole pack of Oda retainers is coming after me, I can't," Kōsaka argued back. "Ever since I've been wondering what might have been so important that they'd rather nearly bring down the city before they let me find out about it?" He raised a suggestive brow.

It wasn't hard to guess at what he was alluding to. But could such a thing be possible? Had Ranmaru been working on his master's return these last years without ever drawing attention to his doing? Kagetora had felt the presence of other possessors from time to time, some of them familiar. He had even sensed Kōsaka a couple of times himself, but Ranmaru had seemed to have vanished into thin air.

Kagetora's own slide of hand – his obscuring his whereabouts from his father – had made it impossible for him to travel the lands in search for survivors of Nobunaga's party. And now he might have to pay the bill.

"Great," Kagetora murmured. "Just great. I don't assume you were able to make yourself useful for once and prevent them from whatever they were doing?"

"You're one to talk, _Minako-sensei_," Kōsaka sneered. "If you had done a better job blowing Nobunaga's lights out ten years ago, we wouldn't be facing the problem at all, would we?"

That one hit home. Kagetora had never really been able to shake off the feeling of having failed at Mount Aso. On an objective level, he knew that considering all the less than pleasant personal circumstances, he had stood his ground rather well, better even than he had been anticipating himself. He had never truly expected to leave Mount Aso alive – not before, but especially not after having undergone a new possession, or rather been forced to do so, less than twenty-four hours before the decisive fight.

In the end, however, it had been exactly this forced possession which had saved him. It was all due to the body he was possessing that he had survived. Minako had made it possible for him as surely as if she had planned every detail herself. And not only had he come through alive and well, he had also been able to deal his opponent a devastating blow.

But that didn't change the fact that he had missed out on the chance to get rid of Nobunaga once and for all. He was thoroughly weakened, but he was still out there – and so were Ranmaru and the rest of his retainers. He could become a menace again. A menace to Kiheji.

Kōsaka noticed his facial expression. "You really don't feel too well, do you?" he inquired.

"Should I feel particularly good about Nobunaga possibly coming back from the dead?"

"We don't know for sure what Ranmaru's been doing. But knowing him, resurrecting Nobunaga should be a priority of his. Well," Kōsaka shrugged, "we would know it if he had succeeded in that already."

"So there might still be some time," Kagetora murmured.

"Exactly. That's why I was looking for you. I'm not up to this, but you are – as a group. You have them all with you?"

Kagetora froze. Here it came. "More or less. Kakizaki and Irobe are with me, but I haven't been in contact with Yasuda ever since the events on Mount Aso." Naghahide not contacting him was only half the reason for this lack of communication. They'd had a severe fallout concerning Minako several months before the decisive battle with Nobunaga and afterwards, Kagetora had been only slightly less angry at him than he had been at Naoe and in no mood to see him any time soon.

"And your faithful dog?" A smirk crossed Kōsaka's features. "The last time I saw you both you seemed to be out of sorts with him." He was referring to an incident a couple of years prior to Mount Aso, but of course, he had no idea of just how abysmal things between them had become later on.

Kagetora could feel his fingernails dig into the palms of his hands. "I guess I can tell you just as well," he said as casually as possible. "Naoe Nobutsuna... he suffers from a kind of memory loss."

Kōsaka frowned. "Memory loss? Concerning what?"

"Pretty much everything. Everything about his first life... and the lives thereafter. His real name, his mission, Yami Sengoku, you name it."

"Even you?"

Kagetora remained silent, but this seemed to be enough of an answer. "How did that happen?" the Takeda asked incredulously.

"Long story."

"_When_ did it happen?"

"Almost ten years ago."

Kōsaka's eyes narrowed. "Around the time the kid was born?" He took a step closer at Kagetora and watched him inquisitively. "Why do I harbour the strange suspicion that one has something to do with the other?"

Kagetora bristled inwardly at the sudden proximity, but forced himself not to retreat. "Come on closer if you feel like catching a nice angina from me."

That did the trick – Kōsaka promptly took a step backwards. "But he's with you?"

"Naoe? Yes. He's actually an amnesia patient at my hospital. Apart from that, he's leading a normal life, working at an industrial company here in Tokyo."

"You didn't tell him anything about –"

"Now what good would that do?"

"And you don't want me to tell him either in case I should meet him, right? That's what we're talking about here."

Kagetora nodded, too tired for words. A fine film of sweat was manifesting itself on his skin.

"Very soon you might need any ally you can get – especially one that has been charged by Kenshin himself with the task of watching over you. And he'd better start right away: you look like you could keel over any moment." He had taken precisely the tone Kagetora remembered from four hundred years ago in his dealings with a nine-year-old Hōjō Saburō very far from home. "Which way to your place? I'll walk you there."

Kagetora startled – there was no way he was leading Kōsaka straight to where Kiheiji was! – and found out by a quick look at the nearest street sign that he had been doing just that. They were but two blocks away from his own flat. In his beginning fever haze, he had walked home without even noticing.

He wanted to take a deep breath to tell the Takeda to get lost, but this proved oppressive. His vision blurred for a moment. Over the day, he had felt lightheaded every now and then, but this was different. The hypnosis he had worked on Yoshida-san on top of having to put up with Kōsaka had taken his last ounce of strength.

_My mistake,_ he thought right before the fainting spell hit.

Someone was calling him.

/\/

The metro had been crowded as it usually was at this time in the evening. Would the line from his new place to work be just as overloaded, Kasahara asked himself with a trace of self-pity. He would miss this district, plain and tattered as it was – and especially, he would miss the companionship. His company regularly engaged the services of a real estate agency for the transfer of employees from one city to another. Therefore, it hadn't been as much of a problem to find a new accommodation as it might have been under different circumstances. This only made him feel slightly better, if at all, though.

Nearing their block, briefcase in one hand, loosening his tie with the other, he could see someone next to the entrance door – the slender figure of a child in jeans and a t-shirt. Minako's less than affable son was loitering in front of the house for some reason. To Kasahara, the kid was by far the least likeable character in the household – and he had the strong suspicion that things looked the same vice versa.

Kiheiji had been biased against him right from the start – as he probably would have been against any man who expressed an interest in his mother. It wasn't hard to put himself in the kid's shoes, Kasahara found: his father having died before his birth, there probably had always been just him and Minako. Kiheiji obviously held his mother very dear and would have done practically anything for her. His animosity towards Kasahara was chivalry and jealousy in equal shares. Kasahara could understand him there: it wasn't easy to gain Minako's attention, not even for her offspring – and now, he felt that he had to share it.

Maybe the little runt would have felt better about the whole situation if he had known that Kasahara wasn't getting anywhere with his attempts to woo his mother. Then again, Kasahara firmly believed this to be at least in part due to Kiheji's constant attempts not to let him get too close to Minako. This in turn didn't help Kasahara's attitude towards the kid much.

Coming closer, he was met by Kiheiji's cold gaze and instantly knew that the boy hadn't been informed yet about him leaving by the end of the week. Otherwise, he probably would have gloated at least a bit. It couldn't be helped, Kasahara sighed inwardly. Since this was the person closest to Minako, he had to make a minimum effort to socialize with him – even if he didn't feel like it in the least.

"Good evening, Kiheiji-kun", he said politely. "What are you doing here outside?"

"I'm waiting for my mother." _Not that it's any of your business,_ said the tone.

It was incredible, Kasahara thought. The child was already nearly as good as Minako herself when it came to snubbing people. No. Kasahara couldn't say that he liked him.

"Any particular reason why you feel you should wait for her?"

The reply came not without a certain amount of reluctance. "There was such a creep hanging around at the hospital earlier today..."

Kasahara was startled. "What creep?"

The kid watched him intently from Minako's golden eyes. "Don't know. But my mother knew him. He wanted to talk to her about something."

He was staring at Kiheiji who returned his gaze in a no less sinister fashion. Kasahara could have sworn they were thinking the very same thing. What business could a strange man have with Minako and could this person somehow be trying to harm her?

Kasahara made a decision. "Let's wait here for her." He put his bag to the ground. "If she's not arrived in half an hour, we'll go looking for her."

Kiheiji threw him a nasty look, but then nodded, clearly satisfied that an adult shared his view on how things should be done.

It actually didn't take long for Minako to show up. Kasahara and the boy both craned when she appeared at the intersection a couple of blocks away from their own. She was walking very slowly, as if deeply exhausted.

Also, she had the creep with her.

He was about thirty, Kasahara estimated, very slender and of average height. His hair was a tad too long for it to belong to salary-man, also his ripped blue jeans indicated that he didn't have a decent occupation. There was something almost effeminate about his face with the almond-shaped eyes and the full lips. He was talking intently to Minako who had stopped and turned towards the creep with her arms folded in front of her chest.

Kasahara heard Kiheiji gasp when she suddenly doubled up and would have fallen if not for the creep catching her. Both of them broke into a run.

The creep held on to Minako, cursing softly under his breath. He lifted his gaze when the two of them approached him – and froze. His mouth formed a small, round _o_.

Minako's head was lying against his shoulder, but he hardly paid attention to her apart from having an arm flung around her waist. In fact, he had only eyes for the two of them, dashing from Kasahara's face to Kiheji's and back again with a downright unhealthy fascination.

He stared as if he had never seen anything more exciting.

"I'll be damned," Kasahara heard him whisper to himself, a tiny smile forming on his lips that didn't bode well at all.

/\/

Kagetora fought to open his eyes.

His head felt very heavy. He tried to remember what had happened. Had it been an ambush? Had he been hit by something or attacked by an _onry__ō_?

There were voices around him. The sounds of the city, cars speeding by, traffic lights sounding for the blind. The familiar presence of the one who was carrying him in his arms and the soft rocking of that person's steps.

"It's all right. I'll take you home."

Naoe. What a strange thing to say. As if they could have returned to Echigo just like that…

He wasn't up to arguing with his vassal about such minor issues, though. There was something, in the very back of his mind, a reason why he should be angry at Naoe and severely so. But the latter's presence was nothing if not soothing right now. Kagetora could feel his thoughts whirling away like dry leaves in an autumn breeze.

He let go of them, the last one being that for now, everything was well.

/\/

**Author's Note:** This time, it was Naoe-Kasahara's parts which proved the hardest to write... But apart from that, I'm rather satisfied with the chapter even though it went on forever and ever...

It's really awesome that so many of you keep reading this although there usually are such long pauses between updates! I was overwhelmed with the responses to the last chapter ^_^ Thank you all for the encouraging words regarding the earthquake topic. As you can see, I wasn't able to completely ignore it in this chapter - it's part of the plot after all. Of course, before March I had planned on elaborating much more on it much more extensively whereas now there are only hints at it having been the result of Kōsaka having a fight with Nobunaga's minions.

Anyway, it's high time to find out what the other clans have been up to during Kagetora's "maternity leave". We've reached half-time with our story, dear readers. According to my current plan, there will be an altogether of 14 chapters and an epilogue. I hope you'll stay "tuned"! ^_^


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's ****Note: **This is a gentle chapter. A decent Yami Sengoku plot will be back in chapter 9, but this one is all about the characters. I trust you don't mind ;-) Kasahara is doing some "research" about his reticent love interest and some male bonding with his son.

Enjoy :-)

/\/

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

/\/

"You want to do what!"

Professor Nakamura – Head of the Department of Neurology and Irobe's supervisor – was so flabbergasted that he paused in the middle of his movement, holding his tea-cup in one hand and the spoon in the other. Irobe waited patiently, for he was sure there was more to come.

Nakamura didn't disappoint. "But – you've never taken a day off! Never before!" Obviously, this simple fact seemed enough to presume that he was going to work day in day out until his retirement.

"It is unavoidable that I do now," Irobe answered amicably. _Spoilt,_ he thought to himself. _I__'__ve __been __spoilt __over __the __decades __by __serving __a __master __who __usually __shows __understanding __for __very __nearly __everything. __Having __to __report __to __such __a __fool __after __all __this __time __with __Kagetora-sama __pains __me __all __the __more..._

Nakamura shook his head. "It is out of the question for you to take more than one day off – with Kitazato-san out of the office and everything... Why is she missing at a time like this anyway?"

"She's sick with angina, as far as I know," Irobe said in what he hoped to be a patient voice. It sounded strained in his own ears, even though Nakamura didn't seem to notice.

"This is quite an awkward moment to be sick," his supervisor grumbled. "When will she be back?"

"It depends on how quickly she's recovering." _Why __do __I __have __to __explain __such __things __to __a __medic __at __all?_ "She's been working herself to the bone during the last months," he added. _As __if __you __shouldn__'__t __know __this __yourself._ "Therefore it might take a while until she will be back. It's best she cures herself completely before returning or she'd be out again soon."

Better, Irobe thought, to prepare their supervisor for what might well become an absence of several weeks. First of all, Kagetora was really quite ill. Naoe and Kiheiji had brought him home yesterday in a near-unconscious state, his fever running high. Irobe silently cursed himself for not having interfered with his lord's tight schedule in time and brought antibiotics and painkillers from his supplies. Now it all depended on Kagetora being reasonable enough to actually stay in bed and rest.

But the latter wasn't all too likely, Irobe worried. Down on the street in front of their house, Naoe and Kiheiji had stumbled across an old acquaintance: Kōsaka Danjo, Takeda Shingen's right-hand man and closest servant for centuries. Haruie had met him earlier that day at the hospital and warned Irobe that the Takeda general might show up at their doorstep sooner or later, but obviously she hadn't expected him _that_ soon.

What he had told them later that night – when Kasahara had gone home and Kiheiji to bed and the rest of them were assembled around Kagetora's sickbed – was even less appealing. So Mori Ranmaru had lived through the events at Aso after all... Irobe himself had been looking for him on the mountain immediately after the battle, but hadn't found a trace. This seemed to indicate that he had fled from Aso in the body he had been possessing during the battle.

But ever since, there had been no sign of Ranmaru or any other retainer of Oda Nobunaga's. Had they been lulled into false security that easily? It was slightly embarrassing for the yashashuu not to have noticed Ranmaru's presence in Tokyo by themselves. Even though Irobe didn't share Kōsaka's pessimistic outlook that Oda Nobunaga's return was impending, they still had a score to settle with Ranmaru.

Irobe felt sorry for his lord to receive that much blast from the past in so short a time. On the other hand, they had been lucky, of course. Kiheiji's childhood had been peaceful so far. What Kōsaka might have been thinking when seeing the amnesiac Naoe and his son together, Irobe didn't dare imagine. He was more likely than anyone to pick up the connection between Kiheiji and his parents at one glance.

Nakamura's booming voice brought Irobe back to the present. "It is out of the question to give both of you some time off with the current situation at hand. Let's talk about this again when Kitazato has returned."

Oh, he wanted to delay the decision? Irobe suppressed a grimace of contempt. It was essential for him to leave his responsibilities at the hospital and go looking for Ranmaru and his companions. He had promised his lord that he would track them down and find out what they were planning.

_I've __given __my __word, _he thought, _and __so __far __I __never __disappointed __him._

But he couldn't very well explain this to his boss. For a split second, he fancied himself with the gift of hypnosis – Kagetora would have had no qualms getting out of this situation, he mused. But Irobe didn't have that possibility. His eyes resting on Nakamura, he drew a deep breath.

In principle, Irobe believed himself to be well-adjusted to the modern world. Like everyone else in their small army, he'd had plenty of time to adjust, after all. And like the others, he brought that modern persona to his mission as one of the yashashuu rather than the other way round.

There were times, though, when Uesugi Kenshin's ancient general resurfaced – the man who had fought countless battles for his daimyo and later on for his chosen heir, who hadn't wavered even in the face of the gravest danger… and who couldn't be bothered arguing with idiots.

"It is vital that I take a leave of several days – for personal reasons." In his voice lay all of the authority he had possessed in the old days.

Nakamura gulped. "But you cannot – "

"Starting immediately," Irobe cut off his words. "Good day, Nakamura-sensei."

His supervisor merely stared after him as he left the room. Irobe felt a pang of bad conscience – it was after all not Nakamura's fault that two members of the Meikai Uesugi Army were employed at his ward. There had been no reason to lose his patience like this.

He sighed. Maybe recent events were starting to take their toll on him, too.

/\/

"All right, Kakizaki –"

Haruie felt a strong hand grip her arm and lead her backwards to one of the chairs situated around Irobe's kitchen table.

"What the hell is going on?"

At last night's war-council, it had been decided that Kōsaka should lie low at their house for a while since the Oda fraction was bound to be looking for him. None of the yashashuu had been too pleased about this solution (and neither had Kiheiji when he was told about it in the morning), but there remained the simple fact that the fugitive Takeda general had warned them of what might very well become a grave danger. Kagetora felt responsible for his safety to a degree.

"What do you mean?" Haruie asked although she had a very precise idea of what was going to come.

"Naoe," he said merely. "What happened to him?"

The evening before, Kōsaka had obviously had a hard time not to stare from Naoe to Kiheiji and back again all the time. Thankfully, Kagetora had briefed him on the current situation and he didn't say anything incriminating to Kasahara. The latter seemed irritated enough by Kōsaka's presence even without anything awkward coming up for discussion. Kōsaka was given to have this effect on people – in Naoe's case, as it seemed, with or without his memories.

"We told you already: he was hurt in the battle with Oda ten years ago, and we lost every –"

"He didn't just hit his head, Kakizaki," Kōsaka interrupted sharply. "_Somebody _put a blockade in his mind. Only a handful of people I know could permanently seal someone's memory like this and coincidentally, one of them is quite close to Naoe."

Not even pretending that she didn't understand the hint, Haruie looked at him with fake pity. "Why, such nonsense can only come from you," she shook her head.

"Oh?" He raised a brow. "What do you think happened to him then? You're gifted with empathy – or so they say." He laughed at her sinister gaze. Their very different capabilities concerning the gift they shared had been a sore point of hers in the past already.

"I don't know," she snapped. And she didn't. Haruie had died at Aso and therefore hadn't been with Kagetora and Naoe at the time of the latter's memory loss. Irobe had, but that was a period he didn't like to talk about. "I know, however, that Kagetora can't have anything to do with whatever Naoe suffers from." Actually all Haruie knew for sure was that by the time she rejoined Irobe and Kagetora, Naoe's amnesia was _fait __accompli_, because they told her about it. It seemed cruel to Haruie not to contact him at all and just leave him to himself, but she could equally understand Kagetora's lack of enthusiasm in that department and didn't dare act against his orders. She'd always had her suspicions, though, about how Naoe might have lost his memories at a time so perfectly convenient for their lord, and it wasn't pleasant to hear Kōsaka Danjo of all people voice them aloud. "Why would he do something like this to one of his retainers? To his sworn protector?"

Kōsaka nodded thoughtfully, never taking his eyes of her. "A very good question indeed. But then, I happen to know that the relationship between Naoe and Kagetora was somewhat strained before you battled Nobunaga at Aso. Also, whatever befell Naoe happened around the same time when the kid was born. That's too interesting a coincidence to ignore. Tell me some more about the circumstances under which Kagetora came to have a child."

Haruie stared. "The circumstances?"

"I must admit, possessors' children are a novelty to me as well," Kōsaka gave her a crooked smile. "But if there's something I can easily detect with a person, it's their parentage. And so can you, I believe. You know who his father is, don't you?"

Haruie would never know what gave her away but Kōsaka laughed all of a sudden. "Oh, I see. You didn't even need your gift. You knew before... You all know who's his father. Except for Naoe himself, of course. It was him who went against the interdiction for possessors to have children, not Kagetora." He bit his lip as if thinking hard. "Kagetora merely possessed the body later... right?"

"Yes," Haruie answered warily, "by then, the child was already in existence."

Kōsaka cocked a brow. "Why did he do that? Possess the body of Naoe's lover?"

How easy it was, Haruie mused, to get it all wrong when the few available facts all seemed to point into a certain – and completely false – direction. This was a territory she really didn't want to step on. But knowing Kōsaka, it was completely unlikely that he would accept anything less than a detailed explanation.

In lack of a better possibility to dodge a direct question like this, she just shook her head.

"Kakizaki." Kōsaka was practically singing her name. "How am I to interpret this?"

"He didn't," she whispered furiously.

"He didn't? What do you mean?"

She threw him a fierce look. "What I said."

He narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out the meaning behind her words that must be so cryptic to him. "Whom did it belong to?" he asked. "The body, I mean. Who was Kitazato Minako?"

Haruie was silent for several moments. If she lied to him or kept important details from him, he would find out rather sooner than later. And she didn't want him to bother Kagetora about any of this. "Kagetora's wife," she finally conceded.

Kōsaka blinked. For the second time in just as many days Haruie saw him speechless. Sadly, this state wouldn't endure any longer now than it had the last time.

"Naoe had a tryst with his lord's wife?" he asked incredulously. "For the shame of it, how could he? And Kagetora possessed her body? His own woman? When he knew she was pregnant from – "

"What you make it sound like was not at all what happened!" Haruie snapped.

"Well, what am I missing then?" he persisted.

Haruie turned away from his, furious. The subject still got to her, even after all this time. She was sure it was the same for Irobe and Kagetora. Since the three of them never spoke about the events back then, there had been no possibility for them to get over them. She hated having to share such matters with an outsider, but there was no other way if she wanted Kōsaka to give it a rest.

"Nobunaga killed him," she said softly. "He killed Kagetora's host body and would have destroyed his soul, too, with his _hakonha._ The only way to prevent that was for Kagetora to possess another body, but the only one around was that of Kitazato Minako. Naoe knew that Kagetora never would have done that – even if he had been able to which he wasn't with the state he was in. So Naoe did it for him, by usage of the gift he had been vested to him by Kenshin-kō. He saved our lord and killed Minako in doing so."

Kōsaka was silent for a long moment. When he spoke again it was in a downright tired tone.

"And you really want to make you and me believe that Kagetora had nothing whatsoever to do with Naoe losing his memories soon afterwards?"

Her back still turned to him, Haruie closed her eyes.

/\/

The sound of water rippling filled the air. The pleasant scent of autumn leaves and grass was in his nostrils. In the distance, he could hear voices – people talking, children laughing. He was lying on a light blanked on the ground somewhere in what seemed to be a park.

There were hands stroking him. Thin hands lying on the fabric of his shirt. Warmth seeped through the clothing. He opened his eyes. The woman he loved was lying close to him. A smile enlightened her features. Her gentle beautiful eyes never left his, but she wouldn't say aloud what went through her head.

"What is it?" he asked, smiling as well. He didn't question her being here. Her mere presence soothed his nerves and helped him find calm. And with his concentration on her, his mind was so very open and vulnerable.

_~Kagetora!~_

Shock gripped him. His eyes flying open, his defenses were up in a moment, the presence of that other person disappearing behind them – where it had been stored for the last ten years. His surroundings were nowhere close to a park. He was lying on a futon in a small, sunlit room that he easily recognized as his own. Music sounded from the corridor, but this wasn't what had woken him. Neither was it the slender figure leaning in the door to his room.

"Feeling better?" Kōsaka Danjo cocked up an eyebrow.

"No," Kagetora answered honestly. His throat hurt. He was soaked in his own sweat. And he could hear the faint call still echo in his head.

Why was this happening now? What was he going to do? There was more... Minako's tender eyes in his dream. Time had dimmed the pain of losing her (and losing her like this) somewhat, but there were still times when it returned to him sharp and bright. It had been some time since he'd last dreamed of her. For a moment, everything seemed too much to bear.

"Didn't think so. Your people left early today, all on the hunt for Ranmaru and his minions, and I'm stuck with your less than entertaining self. At least, you have some decent records here."

"This is my son's home, Kōsaka," Kagetora stressed as if fearing that the other might get too comfortable, "and not some kind of hostel for stray possessors."

"Figures," the Takeda general smiled thinly. "But try to get used to the thought that you soon won't get to play house anymore. As soon as you step on the scene, it's a question of time now for the other clans to learn of your offspring."

Unfortunately, this was all too true. Kagetora frowned.

"And they'll be most interested. He's powerful, you know."

"Not yet," Kagetora clarified. "But he will be."

"If he lives that long," Kōsaka smiled.

Kagetora startled. "What time is it? Shouldn't he be back from school now?"

"Don't worry, Kasahara-san offered to pick him up."

Oh, _great._They hopefully weren't killing each other yet.

"Excellent," he murmured and quickly grabbed Kōsaka's wrist when he got ready to get up from the floor. "You wouldn't have any cigarettes?"

"Tsk. Violating your own rule, Kagetora-dono? No smoking in the house, Kakikazi told me."

Kagetora let his head drop back onto the pillow. The moist heat under the blanket was unbearable. He extended one of his legs until it protruded from underneath the blanket... an extremely bare leg. He lifted the blanket a bit and froze. Kōsaka – or the gods knew who else – had undressed him to his underwear before putting him to bed. While it made sense for a sick person not to sleep in their clothes, Kagetora nonetheless had to fight down the urge to hit the Takeda general square across the face.

Kōsaka noticed and smirked. "Oh, come off it. I've seen you in less, remember?"

He was obviously referring to a time when Kagetora had still been called Takeda Saburō, nine years of age and in a _male_body, but Kagetora nevertheless grabbed the book lying next to his futon and hurled it at him. Kōsaka laughed and easily caught the small volume.

"'_The __Chrysanthemum __and __the __Sword__'_", he read the title aloud. "Shame on you, Kagetora-dono. What would a foreigner woman know about Japan that we don't know better?" He cocked his head, eyes still fixed on the description of the book's contents. "Mind if I borrow this?"

"Bored already, are you?"

"Actually, I'm hungry," Kōsaka announced and stretched his arms over his head. "What about you?"

The mere thought of food was enough to turn his stomach over. Instead of an answer, Kagetora just put an arm over his head.

He heard Kōsaka laugh. "You should eat something anyway even if it tastes all the same to you. I'll go plunder your fridge and see what I can make."

/\/

Kiheiji was in a mood.

When children were sick, everyone thought it perfectly normal that their mothers would stay at home and take care of them. So why couldn't children take a day off when their mother was sick? It didn't make sense.

He had seen her only for a brief moment this morning and she had still been sleeping, curled up on her side, a handkerchief clutched between her fingers. Uncle Irobe had told him not to worry – she had only been working too much recently and had to take a long rest to get fully healthy again.

Home wasn't a nice place right now with Kosaka the Creep and Kasahara the Crank owning it up, but he still would have preferred to stay there today of all days. Did anybody see to his mother actually _staying_ in bed at all?

The last lesson of the day seemed to never end. Usually, he liked literature – much better than math anyway. But today he couldn't concentrate. It wasn't only his mother being sick that kept him from focusing. He'd been dreaming the weirdest and somehow shocking stuff again last night.

There had been a castle on the top of a hill, surrounded by an army. It looked just like the drawings of samurai going to war in his history textbook. He had been on horseback, wearing an armour.

_His shoulder hurt, having been wounded by an arrow a couple of days ago. But here he was, eyes set on the castle where he knew the enemy to be hiding, not wanting to miss his downfall._

_"Naoe-dono!" One his man brought his horse to a halt right next to him. "Toyama has fled the castle! We are outnumbering Samegao-jo's defenders by three to one. Shall we still set fire to it? We will risk killing –"_

_"Of course. Do as I ordered." His voice was like ice. He held on tightly to the reins of his horse. Victory was near. _

The sound of the school bell had never sounded sweeter in Keihijis ears. He grabbed his books and his backpack and practically ran from the building, ignoring his teacher calling after him. Just when he was rummaging about in his pockets for the key to the locker of his bike, he noticed someone walking towards him. Turning around, he saw four of the older students lingering close to the bike shed. One of them casually stepped towards him

"Hey, Kitazato!"

Kiheiji felt a jolt in his stomach. This was it, then.

"We still have some business to finish, remember?"

It had been clear from the beginning that Yoshio wouldn't take the pink paint attack on his bike lying down. Kiheiji had been expecting the payback for days, but today he really had better things to do than deal with those morons. If he hadn't known better, he would have thought that Yoshio had picked a day when his mother was sick on purpose.

"Running home to mummy, you fatherless little bastard?" Asahiro taunted.

"Yeah, who's she fucking this week?" The others started laughing.

Kiheiji tried not to listen. There were more urgent matters at hand, he thought as Yoshio was stepping closer, his intentions all too clear._When __they__'__re __not __that __much __taller __than __you __are, __always __go __for __the __head, _his mother had taught him. _Eyes, __nose, __throat. __That __hurts __the __most, __so __you __can __get __aw__ay __while __they__'__re __busy __recovering._

Kiheiji's heart was beating fiercely. He had practised this often enough to be sure of what he had to do now. He hated hitting with the fist, though. He decided to use the heel of his hand instead. On three, he thought, narrowing his eyes.

_One – _

Kiheiji almost jumped when a large hand descended onto his shoulder. _Shit, __not __again! __How __much __bad __luck __can __there __be..._

"Is everything all right, Kiheiji-kun?"

Turning around, Kiheiji looked into the frowning face of Kasahara Yuuto, He stared, open-mouthed. "W-what are you doing here?" He cringed inwardly at the thought that Kasahara had heard what they'd been saying earlier about his mother and him not having a father.

Kasahara looked from Yoshio to his friends and raised a brow. "You sure you brought enough people?"

Yoshio and his would-be thugs seemed to be slightly knocked out of their stride by the sudden appearance of an adult. Plus, they weren't sure how this stranger who was towering above them like a tree over bushes was related to Kiheiji. Did he have a father after all? Or maybe a stepfather?

"Well, you're interested in Kiheji's father, I overheard. As it happens, I'm an authority on the subject."

Technically, that wasn't a lie, Kiheiji reminded himself as he stared at the man in astonishment. Kasahara had indeed met his father. He just couldn't remember doing so.

"That's right, young man," Kasahara called to Yoshio who looked at him with disbelief and contempt. "Not only _does _Kiheiji have a father, but he was also a kind, intelligent and responsible man – in short, the absolute opposite of yours."

"What do you know about my father?" Yoshio blurted out.

"I know plenty by just looking at you."

Kiheiji had to bite back a giggle. Yoshio's eyes protruded just too funnily.

But Kasahara wasn't finished yet. "I suppose your father, too, is a bully or too irresponsible to teach you being anything else." His voice became slightly threatening. "Now beat it and never come close to him again or you'll have me to deal with – am I making myself clear?"

For a moment, it looked as if Yoshio were about to make a stand. But for that, he depended on his minions – and they made their intentions to run more than clear. A scowl on his square face, Yoshio did the only smart thing to do and followed them.

"Your classmates?" Kasahara asked in a conversational tone, looking after the boys running off.

Kiheiji shook his head. They were actually a year above him, but since he was tall for his age (which he had inherited from his father, his mother had told him) people often assumed that they must be of one age. He wasn't sure that this would be the end of the whole story, but for today Kasahara had effectively gotten rid them for him.

"They are just immature," Kasahara tried to console him. "Repeating what their parents tell them and not knowing when to better keep their mouths shut."

"Those idiots can kiss my – I mean, I totally don't care about what they think," Kiheiji corrected himself hastily.

Kasahara threw him an amused look, but didn't say anything.

Something occurred to Kiheiji all of a sudden: it was bright daytime. Adults were supposed to be at work "Are you not working today?" he asked.

Perceptive, the child, Kasahara thought not for the first time. "Well, not today. I was moving into my new apartment. So now I have time to take you back to your place."

Kiheiji was perplexed. "Your... apartment?"

"Yes, I'm moving to a place of my own. I don't have a lot of things yet and almost no furniture, but I can make do."

"Oh," was all Kiheiji had to offer to that. He was finally leaving? He would stop seeing Kiheiji's mother? And not bother them anymore?

Well, to be fair, the man hadn't bothered him that much _today_. Even if he didn't say so, Kiheiji had been kind of grateful for his showing up. He would have liked to give Yoshio a thrashing all right, but he didn't know for sure if he could have gotten out of this situation on his own. There had been four of them, after all.

Kasahara had spared him that, stepping in and exhibiting such a calm authority, not unsimilar to the one Kiheiji's mother had. It had been fun watching Yoshio deflate so quickly and by the measure of words alone. _I __wish __I __could __do __that__…_

"How is my mother?" Kiheiji asked when they had to stop at a traffic light.

"I'm not sure. Your Aunty Yuiko is watching for her not to get out of bed yet."

"That's good," Kiheiji murmured, knowing his mother's stubborn bravery only too well. She wasn't likely to rest as she had been told to if nobody saw to that.

A drop of water suddenly landing on his nose made him flinch. "Oh-oh."

"Hurry," Kasahara said. They both quickened their pace.

"Speaking of your mother, I've a conondrum, you know," Kasahara suddenly confided in him.

Oh? Kiheiji looked up to the man without slowing down his steps. The rain was getting stronger.

"When someone's sick, flowers are in order. I'd like to stop by the small shop a couple of streets from yours, but since I've no idea what kind of flowers your mother might like, I'm a bit at a loss about what to buy."

Kiheiji bit his lip. Helping Kasahara to get back into his mother's good graces was about the last thing he wanted to do. He'd been satisfied – happy even – when he'd noticed a rift between them. He had never understood why his mother was so concerned about this stranger's well-being in the first place. Kiheiji perceived him as an intruder.

But he guessed that he owed the man for earlier. And actually, that was an easy one.

Kiheiji sighed inwardly... and then told him.

/\/

This had gone way better than he had imagined, Kasahara thought when he stepped up the stairs towards Minako's place behind her son, the precious flowers in one hand, his briefcase in the other. His unexpected showing up at Kiheiji's school at the very right moment had for once shocked the brat into speechlessness.

During all the time he had spent in this house, he had never once entered Minako's flat – until yesterday that was, when he had to carry her there.

Her room was austere enough to belong to a nun, he had noticed during the brief moments it took him to put her there. Apart from the futon she was sleeping on, there was only a wardrobe – and a small pile of books next to the futon. This bleakness struck him as odd by comparison with the rest of the flat. Kiheiji's room was cheerful with a western-style bed made of red-painted wood and lots of toys stuffed neatly into a shelf – that much he had seen from the corridor when leaving the flat. The walls of said corridor were decorated with colored photographs mostly of Kiheiji and Yuiko or Sasaki-sensei, but some of them also featured Minako herself.

There wasn't a single one, though, that showed Kiheiji's father.

Kasahara wondered where exactly Minako's late husband would have fit in if he had survived that famous camping trip to Mount Nakadake all those years ago. But then again, it had probably been the loss of husband and father which had turned them into such a tiny sworn community. It was the two of them against the rest of the world.

Kiheiji opened the door to the apartment with the key he was wearing on a cord around his neck. Hastily, he took off his shoes and went straight for Minako's room.

"Here", his mother's voice sounded from the kitchen, startling them both. She had gotten up from her sickbed and made herself some tea, it seemed.

Taking off his own shoes, Kasahara watched Kiheiji approach his mother. "'kaa-san. Are you better?"

Minako just nodded – what seemed like a white lie to Kasahara. "How was school?" she asked, clearly wanting to change the subject.

"Oh," Kiheji tunred a bit red. "'twas okay." He too had something he didn't want to talk about. For all their being able to understand each other almost wordlessly, Kasahara thought, it was remarkable how they were trying their best to keep anything unpleasant from each other – be it sickness or fights on the school yard.

He threw a careful look around, halfway expecting this strange Kōsaka character to show up, but he seemed to have left the apartment. Yuiko had explained to him that Kōsaka was an old friend of Minako's husband and also well-acquainted with his widow.

Although he harboured the suspicion that any man showing up on Minako's doorstep and declaring himself close to her would have irritated him, there was something about this person that Kasahara especially didn't like. Kōsaka had a tendency, he found, to stare at him in a shrewd and calculating way. As if he knew something about Kasahara that the latter didn't himself. Kiheiji had noticed the man staring as well, Kasahara thought – and apparently, he didn't like it much, either.

For once, Minako's son and he were in agreement about something.

She seemed to have taken a shower earlier. Glossy, wet hair was falling over the collar of her white yukata. Her face still was a bit flushed with fever to him, but this suited her. It was more than that, he thought.

For once she was not as strong as she usually seemed. Even her eyes appeared less guarded than usual to him. He still remembered the feeling of her light weight in his arms from the evening before. Apart from that, they had never touched, it suddenly occurred to him. Well, if you didn't count her patching up his injured hand in the very beginning of their aqcquaintance. But that could hardly compare.

"Hello," Kasahara said and smiled, his heart beating loudly in his chest.

/\/

His hands were like ice. Looking into Kasahara's eyes, all he could think of was: how much does he remember by now? Surely, he _had_ to remember. But would he be smiling like this, if he were?

They hadn't spoken since that strange incident with the dinner invitation to which Kagetora still hadn't given an answer. He had tried to put that from his mind altogether in order to occupy himself with the much more urgent matter of certain of Naoe's memories having returned to Kasahara.

Although he had never confirmed it towards Kagetora, it was obvious that Kasahara had somehow found a hole in the thick wall Kagetora had set up between his consciousness and his memories from the preceding near four hundred years. As of now, they might be only snippets but that was enough to keep Kagetora worried about whether his own web of deceit was to come tumbling down.

Meanwhile there must be quite some questions on the man's mind as well: for example how Kagetora came to throw him out of the house which had forced him to go looking for a place of his own all of a sudden. He'd never been offered an explanation. But if he felt bitter or alienated by any of this, it didn't show on his face which seemed as friendly and open as usual, if with a trace of concern.

Kagetora reminded himself that the evening before, Kasahara had found him unconscious on the street and carried him up here... to his bed. At least that was what Haruie had told him – at the time it happened, he'd been well out of it all.

All of this was beyond awkward, Kagetora mused. Somehow he had managed to make a mess of his relationship – if you could call it that – with Naoe again and in no time at all. _Why, __congrats._

Kiheiji was looking from his mother to his father and back again as if trying to figure out what went on between them. Kagetora took a deep breath. "Thank you for bringing him home, Kasahara-san."

"You're very welcome, Minako-san."

Kagetora buried his fingers in his son's hair for a moment. As expected, it was wet from the rain outside. "Get a towel," he said. "You too catching a cold is all I need now." Kiheiji raised his brows, but obediently disappeared into the bathroom. "And change your clothes", Kagetora called after him.

Kasahara was watching him intently. "How are you feeling?" he asked as soon as they were alone.

"Better, I believe." _No __wonder __we __never __reach __a __resolution __when __we __resort __to __set __phrases __all __the __time__…_

"That's good," Kasahara said. "I was quite worried yesterday. Oh," he looked down at his hands. "These are for you."

Kagetora followed his gaze and froze.

Morning glories.

Naoe had brought him his favorite flowers. Kagetora's eyes narrowed. How on earth did he know –

"They don't bite."

Kagetora quickly looked up at the man, heat rising in his cheeks. Right, the flowers didn't bite. They were of a beautiful bright blue color. He was just too busy to embarrass himself to appreciate them properly. He was searching for words, almost missing out on the fact that Kasahara, too, looked embarrassed.

_Ridiculous,_ he thought. _We__'__re __ridiculous._

Awkwardly, he took the small bouquet. Suddenly, he was very much aware of his unkempt hair and negligent clothing.

_I __must __look __horrible,_Kagetora thought. And blinked.

Now where had that come from? _Who __the __hell __cares __what __I __look __like! _Apart from that, Minako wouldn't have looked "horrible" under any circumstances, so by default neither could he. Kasahara's soft gaze indicated nothing to the contrary, either: it hang on him as if there was nothing in this world he'd rather look at.

Kagetora felt a slight shiver run down his spine. In the past, he had often been admired for his looks – especially during his first life. But for some reason none of those compliments had unsettled him as did Kasahara's behaviour – innocent and guileless as it was.

Naoe had always restricted himself to more or less furtive glances, except when they were fighting with each other. Always wanting, always watching, he was the one who had first started to call Kagetora's penetrating gaze his _tiger's__eye__ –_ never realizing that he himself was the only one able to hold that gaze for longer than a few seconds. But never had Naoe shown his feelings as openly as Kasahara did. For a moment, Kagetora felt indulged to give him a warning not to be so honest, not to make himself so vulnerable.

"I'll... lay down again," he murmured instead and took a few steps towards his room, eyes fixed on the flowers in his hands. But then he turned around one more time. "Have you eaten yet, Kasahara-san? Kōsaka made dinner. You can share with my son if you're hungry."

/\/

It was impossible, Kasahara thought, to tell whether she had liked the flowers or not. Maybe she was regarding his present as unfitting? Her eyes had seemed sad to him. Maybe she used to receive morning glories from her dead husband? There were still so many things about her that he just didn't comprehend.

While the food stewed on the hearth and Kiheiji was still in the bathroom, Kasahara set out to inconspicuously look around the small living room. Instead of photos of her little family, Minako had chosen not to decorate this room except for a small wooden figurine of a Buddhist deity, perhaps half a meter high. An unusual statue for a house altar, he mused.

It was a warrior in full armor, holding a spear in one hand and a small wooden case that looked like a pagoda in the other. He had a square face and large, fierce eyes. To his own surprise, Kasahara shuddered. Something about those angry, strict eyes made the hairs at the nape of his neck rise. As if that reprimanding look were directed straight at him. He quickly looked away.

Why would Minako keep something like this? Why a warrior god and not for example the Kannon, the goddess of mercy? He knew they were religious people, both Minako and Sasaki-sensei. Or at least, they were interested in history of religion. Sasaki had a rather impressive calligraphy of a single Sanskrit letter hung up in his own living-room. On Kasahara's question, he had explained to him that the letter was pronounced _bai._

Apart from the small shrine, there were an eating table, an old green sofa and a cupboard with an LP player and a vast compilation of records. At the very bottom, Kasahara could also see a collection of rather worn-out books that she kept aside from the ones in her room for some reason. Stepping closer, he identified them as once belonging to the library of Waseda University by their signatures. They all dealt with the same subject, Kasahara noticed.

"Borderline syndrome, borderline personality," he murmured to himself, reading the titles aloud. He pulled out one of the books and opened it. His gaze immediately fell on a paragraph which Minako had marked with a pencil.

_Manipulative __behaviour __as __well __as __the __need __to __control __relationships __is __a __further __trait __of __the __borderline __condition. __Attempts __at __manipulation __can __for __example __serve __the __purpose __of __not __to __lose __attachment __figures. __Furthermore, __other __people __are __sometimes __included __into __projective __identification __as __described __in __the __section__ "__thought __patterns__" __in __order __to __stabilise __the __own __inner __equilibrium. __This __can __have __an __encumbering __effect __on __relationships._

He frowned and turned a page.

_Those of the ambivalent/resistant type of attachment tend to inwardly cling to attachment figures. At the same time, however, they are angry at them. On one hand, they deal with a great longing for a close union; on the other, they quickly feel cornered or forced. _

She had set an exclamation mark next to the following sentence.

_This can result from an insecure attachment to caregivers in childhood and their unpredictable behaviour. This unpredictable behaviour is being transferred to children as they grow up and later on signifies their own pattern of relationships. _

The text book went on about the prevalence of borderline syndrome with victims of sexual abuse or rape, but Kasahara didn't read any further. Weird, he thought, that she would have kept these books at her home and not in her office at the hospital. Had she been dealing with a patient suffering from this condition? Someone who was important to her? Or maybe this had been her area of specialization when she had still been in university?

As if on cue, his gaze fell on a slim briefcase settled in the shelf right above the books. Against the dark material of the envelope, a small red emblem stood out. Her certificates? His curiosity roused, he carefully looked around. Minako had gone back to bed and Kiheiji was taking his time in the bathroom. Against his better judgement, he reached for the briefcase and brought several sheets of deckle-edge papers to light.

He frowned. As the books had already implied, her PhD was indeed from Waseda, dated from 1968. Clinical psychology had been her major. But she had completed her undergraduate studies much earlier – in 1960 – and at a different university. _Nippon __Medical __School,_ it read on the certificate.

She had switched universities? Why do that, he wondered. Not that there was anything wrong with Waseda, but the Medical School located in Bunkyo was actually famous all over the country. Even Kasahara with his very different professional background had heard of it. Why hadn't she gone back there for her PhD? The program was bound to be competitive, but being alumni she would have had no problems to get in.

Slipping the certificates back into the folder, his fingers brushed against something smaller and heavier: her student identity cards.

Kitazato Minako, born October 20, 1934, in Ueda-shi, Gifu prefecture, was written next to her picture – a small photograph of the kind you put into passports.

Startled, Kasahara drew a quick breath.

There she was: the familiar face with the high cheekbones and the pale, clear skin. And yet, for a moment he believed to be mistaken and whomever the picture showed wasn't Minako – not even a much younger one – but someone else altogether. This young woman here looked from the tiny frame with a gentle gaze from large lovely eyes that was completely foreign to the Minako he knew. There was something understanding about this girl, something calm and contemplating that would have fitted a novice in a temple just as well. She seemed by no ways naive, but innocent in a very positive way.

Quickly, he checked out the other photo, the one which must have been made several years later, when she was enrolling into Waseda.

It was almost like looking at a different person – but this one Kasahara could bring in line with the woman he knew much more effortlessly than he could the mild-looking girl from the older photograph. By comparison, this one seemed not calm, but composed. Underneath that self-control, something cold and bitter could be surmised, a certain kind of aggressiveness – or uncertainty.

That was it, he thought. The younger woman seemed sure of her place in life, as if standing on solid ground – and the older one didn't.

The years between one enrolment and the other had changed her almost beyond recognition. Of course, he thought wistfully, her husband's death must have been hard on her. There was something about her eyes that had changed, he mused. Maybe the upswing of the eyebrows or... Both the photos were tiny; it was difficult to make sure...

"Found anything interesting?" Kiheiji asked, having returned from the bathroom. There was a note of distrust in his voice.

Kasahara smiled a bit sheepishly at having been caught red-handed. "Your mother likes reading, I see." Without ostentation, he shoved the briefcase back to where he had found it.

Kiheiji didn't seem to notice. He ruffled his still-wet hair with a towel. "She liked the flowers."

"Oh?"

Kiheiji just nodded. "She's like that when she likes something."

"I see," was all Kasahara could say to that. A key being turned at the other side of the apartment door preceded Yuiko's arrival and spared him a proper answer.

"Hey", she smiled, looking from one of them to the other. It seemed to Kasahara that her smile was widening a tiny little bit at the sight of them together.

"Hello," Kiheiji said.

Entering the room, the young woman took off her jacket. "I met Kōsaka downstairs. He mentioned he made dinner." She sniffed at the air. "Don't tell him I said that, but it smells wonderful! Mind of I join you?"

/\/

"As if I couldn't do that myself," Kagetora protested when Haruie came to his room to change the sweaty bed-sheets.

"Ssshhhh, you're sick", she cut him off. "You're not to lift a finger." Setting herself to work, her gaze fell on the morning glories. "Wow, nice flowers," she remarked. "Did Kasahara bring them?"

Kagetora nodded without much enthusiasm. Haruie smiled as if she didn't notice his dark look. "Naoe can be quite the gentleman if he wants to, can't he?"

"If you say so. Actually, I don't find this half as interesting as the fact that he chose morning glories of all flowers."

"Your favourites, aren't they?"

"Yeah, come to think of it he could've gotten that piece of information only from you."

Haruie looked at him all wide-eyed. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sure, you don't. And it wasn't your idea to have him pick up Kiheiji after school today, either."

"It was, actually," Haruie smiled. "But it really wasn't me who tipped him off about the morning glories." Still smiling, she carried the sheets from the room.

Stretching his ailing bones, Kagetora looked at the ceiling. As if. Who else came into question?

Outside, the sun was setting. His gaze followed the warm orange glow from the ceiling towards the window. Although his mind was weary from both his sickness and the pending difficulties in his personal life – not to mention the search for traces of the Oda in which he couldn't take part at this point in time – he couldn't even find the energy to sleep. Something else was lingering in his mind that rendered everything else nearly meaningless.

It wasn't unusual for him not to hear from his father in a decade, on the contrary. Kenshin hardly ever contacted him – as far as he was aware of it. On the other hand, he didn't know whether the ancient clan lord didn't keep an eye out for each of them and thus, must have noticed by now that Kagetora was hiding from him.

Ever since the events at Mount Aso, Kagetora had held himself, his child and his companions under a concealment that would have made it impossible for Kenshin or any messenger of his to contact them. Immediately after the battle, driven by his newly-reached resolution that Minako's child should be born, all he had wanted was distance from his responsibilities for a certain while. By then, he had still been thinking about having Kiheiji adopted – an idea he had dropped practically at once after his son's birth.

Kenshin shouldn't find out about the child, he had decided, though. His father shouldn't know what a mess he had made of his life and the mission entrusted to him. And least of all, he wanted Kenshin to order him back to the field and leave Kiheiji to somebody else. He hated having to take such a measure that seemed false and dishonest to him. But in the blink of an eye almost ten years had passed like this.

After last night, things were different, however. Slipping into unconsciousness down on the street, the call had reached him. His shields had deserted him for once and it seemed to coincide with Kenshin calling for him. He had heard... he wasn't mistaken. Also later in the morning, when he had been dreaming of Minako.

His father had been calling him – and he had failed to answer.

"Stop brooding all the time," Haruie said when she returned and found him wide awake, lying on his side with a palm underneath his cheek on the pillow. "You need your sleep. Trouble might be ahead after all."

"Right. And I'm so damn useless at the moment, it's driving me up the wall. Did you find out anything today?" It was a stupid question. She would have told him at once.

"Not much. I hope Irobe did. But I can tell you this much: it's more than likely that by now they are aware of us looking for them and have gone into hiding."

"Preparing the first strike on us," Kagetora suggested.

"Possibly," Haruie nodded. "We'll figure that out before they get that far."

Neither of them mentioned Kiheiji, but Haruie understood his concern just as well. "Please rest, my lord. You need your strength."

"Actually, what I need might be Yasuda Nagahide," Kagetora responded, sounding less than thrilled. "And more tea," he added before Haruie could answer anything. It was the first time in years that Kagetora mentioned his renegade subordinate. She decided to get back to the topic later.

When she returned to the room with the steaming tea pot, though, Kagetora had already fallen asleep again.

/\/

That night, Kiheiji dreamt of the sound of a flute, of high grass that surged like a glossy green sea. In the middle of it, a slender figure in a blue and violet kimono was kneeling with their back turned to Keihiji. He still couldn't see the instrument producing the sound – he only followed the melody, entranced. Until it broke off.

Kiheiji felt his heart skip a beat when the youth turned around and looked at him. His eyes were the slanting, golden-brown eyes of Kiheiji's mother. They seemed to light up at the sight of him. _There __you __are,_ they said and they were smiling although the face was serious.

Kiheiji returned the gaze, thinking of his heart as a bell and of this penetrating golden gaze as the clapper to it, and in that moment he was happy… so happy he had finally found him again. He was smiling, too, in his sleep.

/\/

**Author's****Note:** Hope you liked it ^_^ I'm aware it's kind of long or long-winded, but there wasn't a way to make it shorter…

Thank you all so much for still reading! I'm really sorry it always takes me so long to update, but I'm still every bit as passionate about this story as in the very beginning. It might take me longer than former stories of mine to finish this one, but it WILL be finished. Thanks for your patience ^_^

Concerning the flower scene: It's my firm conviction that people in love should act like it ;-)

Oh, and: who else thinks that a borderline personality somewhat fits Kagetora?^^

**Next Chapter: **"Dinner at nine would be great." - teehee


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: **This was such a fun chapter to write ^_^ I hope you'll have just as much fun reading it!

Enjoy :-)

/\/

**CHAPTER NINE**

/\/

The clans were in a state of disquiet. Irobe had met and talked to a number of kanshousha in the course of the last couple of weeks. Somehow word had gotten out about the yashashuu being on the trail of their old enemies, the Oda clan, again. Such a constellation never bode well for the rest of Yami Sengoku. The clans remembered the furious clashes between the Uesugi and their arch enemy only too well.

And if the others were aware of their struggle to hunt down the Oda – so must be the Oda themselves by now.

What worried Kagetora the most – as he had confided in Irobe – was what Kōsaka had told him about his violent encounter with Ranmaru. The little freak apparently had summoned enough power to shake the ground underneath half a city.

Ranmaru had always been strong – the fact that he had been a mere sixteen-year-old by the time of his first death couldn't deny that. The absorption seal they had been dealing with at Aso had been his work, not Nobunaga's. Irobe remembered this very well. It made sense for Nobunaga's closest and most-beloved retainer, defending the latter at Honnō-ji and following him into death by committing _seppuku. _

It was one thing to spy on such a character, but a very different one to rouse his attention while doing so. Judging from the way Kōsaka's encounter with him had developed, Ranmaru's possible reaction to finding out that he had been tracked down by the Meikai Uesugi Army wasn't something Irobe enjoyed to dwell on.

By comparison, he found that Kasahara's troubles were downright pleasant to listen to.

"She called me at work the other day and scheduled a new session – out of the blue."

"Are you not happy with this?"

Kasahara whirled around. Irobe smiled softly.

In the past, there had been many conversations like this between them, Irobe mused. Naoe would come to see him – more or less reluctantly – and after some small talk slowly begin to spill the beans. Kasahara was much less reluctant about seeking his advice – as he was about expressing his slightly turbulent feelings by pacing the room.

The advisor role he had been given stemmed from the relatively old age he had reached during his first life by comparison with the rest of them, Irobe figured. It hadn't been just Naoe who had come to seek his counsel, but also Haruie and from time to time Nagahide. And Kagetora, of course. For somebody who was unusually unable to form relationships, he had been surprisingly prone to seek Irobe's advice.

Irobe was aware that life had rarely been easy for his lord. Loneliness and being exposed to the public when all he wanted was his quiet had been the two key factors which had shaped his existence as both Hōjō Saburō and Uesugi Kagetora. His principally outspoken and emotional nature constantly clashed with the need to hide his true thoughts and feelings behind a mask for the public.

Now Kasahara was the one who had to deal with that attitude first and foremost. Understandably, he was a bit baffled by it.

"I just don't understand. I was under the impression that she wasn't very keen on meeting me anymore."

"Even if that were true – she's still your doctor. She can't shirk from her responsibility."

"Her sense of duty of precisely what makes it so hard sometomes to tell what she really wants or what she's thinking," Kasahara mused. "She's not like other women."

"No." A wistful smile tugged at Irobe's lips. "She's not."

"Even her choice of career is unusual."

"It is," Irobe agreed. "But since she's not married – or at least not anymore – she can do lots of things that women normally cannot."

Kasahara looked up with an interested look on his handsome face. "Is that why she didn't marry again? Because she didn't find a man who would tolerate such a conduct?"

"As far as I am aware, she never got interested in anyone again. Maybe she was too busy, caring for her son while finishing her studies."

"You knew her husband well, didn't you?"

"I knew him much better than her, then. The time of his life into which their marriage fell, was difficult for him. And for her, too. They had both lost their families. She was coping much better, though, since she didn't make the mistake to blame herself."

"What he was like?"

Inwardly, Irobe shook his head. _Of course, you can't just go ahead and ask me what a man would have to be like for Minako to fall in love with him, so you're choosing this way. _

"Determined, reserved, reliable. He had a very rational mindset except when it came to her,"

Irobe answered and smiled as he found himself listing Naoe's own character traits. And Kasahara also possessed them, Irobe mused. Was he doing this to encourage the other man? Or because thinking of Kagetora's partner automatically brought Naoe to his mind? "People sometimes thought of him as cold, but... he wasn't."

Kasahara had been listening intently. "Was theirs a happy marriage?"

Irobe looked up. "I would say so. Of course, as an outsider you can never truly establish what goes on within a relationship. But they seemed to love each other."

"Of course," Kasahara murmured. He could get lost in his thoughts easily, just like Naoe used to, Irobe thought – and with a slight chill realized that he had started to adopt Kagetora's view of things. He, too, had started to think of Kasahara and Naoe as two separate persons.

Not for the first time, Irobe contemplated what had truly been going on in Kagetora's mind when he had sealed Naoe's memories. Within the course of four-hundred years, they had become so entangled with each other, caught in a web of grievance and resentment and unfulfilled wishes. All these years he had wondered what might have to happen for the two former enemies to see each other with new eyes.

It almost seemed like an intervention of fate. They had met anew. They had met as strangers.

And maybe they had never had better chances to reach a resolution than now.

/\/

"So," Haruie asked propping herself up on one elbow. "Any news on the date situation?"

Lying on her side with only a towel around her slender figure, wet hair falling over her shoulder, she came very close to Kagetora's idea of a mermaid. He was sitting next to her, likewise wrapped in a towel with his legs tucked up and his hair tied into the usual ponytail. They were in one of Tokyo's public bathhouses which they had almost to themselves at this late hour. Steam erupted from the water basins, effectively preventing their skin from drying after the bath. Lost in thought, Kagetora traced the water-drops on his neck and shoulder.

He had cured his illness completely and was planning on getting back to the hospital the coming day. A lot of work had been left unfinished in the meantime, not to mention the uncertain situation regarding a possible rise of the Oda. This was presumably his last quiet moment for the next couple of weeks, Kagetora thought wistfully – and Kasahara was the absolutely last subject he felt like talking about. But he knew from experience that Haruie wouldn't give up on the matter any time soon.

"He hasn't mentioned it again," he answered finally. "Maybe he has forgotten about it altogether."

"Never." Haruie shook her head. "He's waiting for the right moment to bring it up, is all. You have another session with him tomorrow, don't you?"

"Yes." Kagetora narrowed his eyes. If only he himself possessed that confidence to unravel Naoe's recent behaviour. Haruie was so extraordinarily sure that she could make sense of what Kasahara was doing as if he actually _were_ Naoe – when Kagetora was puzzled all the time by how different the two of them were.

Or maybe she just understood romantic relationships in general better? He couldn't really call himself experienced in that area. He had been married, yes – twice actually. But the marriage to his first wife had been arranged for political reasons. And his relationship to Minako had been based on tenderness and friendship much more than on passion.

Having never experienced romantic courtship himself – he winced at the memory of his so-called admirers at Kasugayama; never could this be the real thing or people wouldn't have made romantic love the topic of countless songs and poems – he was a bit at a loss about what to make of Kasahara's behaviour. He hadn't actually declared himself or whatever they were calling it these days, so maybe it was all in Kagetora's head, remains of his underlying awareness of Naoe's feelings. He still wasn't sure. He just hoped it hadn't been a mistake to schedule another session with Kasahara so soon.

"All right," he conceded, "let's hope he's waiting a little longer. I'm kind of preoccupied with tracking down Ranmaru and ... and Nagahide."

Haruie tilted her head at his mentioning the missing member of their crew. All evening she had been waiting for the right moment to bring Nagahide up, trying to find the right words to pursue the subject of their renegade companion which had been a delicate one between them all these years. Haruie remembered the furious clashes between Nagahide and their lord prior to the battle on Kyushu only too well. It wasn't surprising that neither had been tempted to contact the other ever since. In a way, she was almost glad that the impending crisis with Oda had forced Kagetora to take action.

Kagetora noticed her pensive gaze and shrugged, deciding to spare her the trouble. "I'm not convinced he'll show up at all."

Haruie played with her toenails. "You could always summon him. Did you ever try to?"

"No, and I'm not going to. If he rejoins us, it must be of his own free will. I'm not going to force him."

Haruie slightly shook her head before she burst out with what had been on her tongue ever since they had started this conversation. "I understand that you don't want seek him out yourself. But did you have to send _Kōsaka_ for him?"

Kagetora just laughed softly. It had been a spur of the moment decision, but one he wasn't dissatisfied with in retrospect. Such gadflies they both were...

They deserved having to put up with each other.

/\/

Kōsaka Danjo had always enjoyed chasing people or things.

If someone had told him a couple of days ago that he would end up running errands for Kagetora, helping him to get hold on his renegade subordinate, he would have laughed it off. But here he was, chatting up Yasuda Nagahide who seemed less than thrilled at his showing up at his doorstep.

Kōsaka smiled to himself. Maybe Yasuda wasn't as much fun as the temperamental leader of the Uesugi and his faithful dog or that spitfire Kakizaki, but he would do for the moment. More than that actually: from what Kagetora had told him, the man had left the life as one of the yashashuu behind almost completely. He had distanced himself from the Meikai Uesugi Army in more ways than one.

The more entertaining it was for Kōsaka to break into that detatched existence and confront him with his past. Kagetora hadn't told him very much about the reasons why his retainer had turned his back on the yashashuu – only that Yasuda had been extremely prejudiced against his wife, that he had viewed her as a liability and once tried to kill her. Which in itself made matter for a good story, Kōsaka thought, but that wasn't why he was here.

"Kagetora wants me to rejoin him – and he sends you?" Yasuda's look could only be described as incredulous as he summed up what he had understood from Kōsaka's words.

"I'm not sure it's what he wants." Kōsaka smirked. "But I know it's what he sees as necessary considering the circumstances."

Yasuda made an impatient gesture. "And since when do you possess his trust for him to send you here with such an order?"

"I don't," Kōsaka answered honestly. "He was indispensable, so he chose to trust me this far: to deliver the message and answer possible questions you could have. Since you don't have any, I'll take my leave." He send Yasuda a mock salute and got ready to leave.

"Wait."

_How predictable. _Kōsaka turned around.

Yasuda seemed to suppress a sour look at having to keep him here and ask him for something. "Is Kagetora aware that his father has been looking for him for quite some time?"

"Oh?" Kōsaka raised a brow. "Which one?"

Yasuda snorted. "Give me a break. Would I mind if Hōjō Ujiyasu was up to something?"

Kōsaka winked at him with false confidentiality. "I should hope you would mind if the Hōjō were up to something. Or," he broke into an unholy smile as he moved in for the kill, "do you not care at all about Yami Sengoku anymore just because of a little rift between you and your master?"

/\/

The little rift had had Nagahide on the verge of turning his powers against Kagetora, he remembered only too well. "How much did Kagetora tell you about what happened?" he asked.

Curiosity shone in Kōsaka's dark eyes. "I'm old enough to know that there are always two signs of a coin. But whatever he did – _you_ are the one who left like a churl who doesn't know the first thing about bushido. Why did you do that?"

Nagahide sighed inwardly. He hadn't actually left, he mused, he had died in battle and decided not to rejoin his army after his rebirth. It wasn't easy, however, to explain this another kanshousha, a member of Yami Sengoku, a general to an ancient clan lord who was trapped underneath a _kekkai, _out of reach for his retainers_._

No contact meant no conflicts. He decided not to tell Kōsaka of how furious he had been at Kagetora for the way he treated Naoe, how he had found it more and more insufferable to do Kagetora's bidding. How he hadn't wanted to even breathe the same air as Kagetora.

He settled for: "Because everything was going on my nerves."

He was more than reluctant to share this information with an outsider like Kōsaka. But if he didn't want to talk to Kagetora directly, he had to make inquiries elsewhere. "Kenshin-kō repeatedly tried to reach him and failed. He contacted me instead."

"Oh." Kōsaka smiled. "That must have been awkward – explaining to Kenshin how you left his heir and the mission to themselves because they were all going on your... nerves."

Nagahide gritted his teeth. It wasn't easy to stay calm. While Kenshin hadn't exactly asked him to go and look after his son for him, the implication had been clear. It was a strange thing to witness, but true nonetheless: Kenshin was at a loss. But so was Nagahide where Kagetora was concerned – and not for the first time, either.

"Do you know why he did that? Kagetora, I mean. Why didn't he answer to his father?"

Kōsaka broke into a slow smile and stretched his arms above his head in an almost childlike fashion. "Maybe he was a bit fed up with his profession after four-hundred years?" he suggested.

"No." Nagahide gloomily stared at the Takeda general. "He would have killed himself in that case."

Kōsaka blinked. If Nagahide hadn't known him for several lifetimes, he would have believed the other to be taken aback.

"During the last years, I felt his presence from time to time," Nagahide continued. "I knew he was alive, but I –"

"What do you mean, you felt his presence?" Kōsaka asked sharply.

Nagahide was perplexed. "Well, what I said. You know what it's like when you've sworn allegiance to somebody, don't you? You can feel their presence."

Kōsaka stared at him for several seconds, then dropped his gaze as if in deep thought. "You noticed him, then," he murmured. "Apparently, not even Kagetora's concealment was strong enough to hide him completely... that's interesting."

"Concealment? You mean he was hiding from me?"

"Not from you," Kōsaka answered calmly. "Also, it didn't work as thoroughly as he believed all the time. You noticed the presence, after all – even if you were mistaken about the identity."

"That wasn't Kagetora, you mean? You think I'd mistake someone else for my lord?" Nagahide asked incredulously.

Kōsaka seemed to suppress a small smile at Nagahide calling Kagetora his lord this casually. "So did I if it's any consolation. Kagetora held himself and the rest of his army under a concealment from his father."

"From Kenshin?" Nagahide stared. "But why?"

"For an excellent reason. But since you were able to detect him, just like I was... I don't know," Kōsaka shook his head." Maybe it is like this when someone has twice the power of your regular possessor. It's hard to say, even for me."

Nagahide froze. _Twice the power... _echoed in his head. Icy cold gripped his whole body when his brain caught up with the words. Something about the way the Takeda general stressed this...

This couldn't be. They wouldn't have actually gone through with this. They couldn't.

But even while thinking so, he knew that it was _precisely_ the thing Kagetora at least would have been capable of.

"I don't believe this."

"Believe it. And I agree: their presences do seem very much alike."

_Him,_ Kōsaka had said... "It's… it's a boy, then?" he heard himself say.

Kōsaka nodded, but didn't offer any additional as Nagahide would have willed him to do. Asking him was out of the question, of course. His mind was spinning with conflicting thoughts and emotions.

"And he's with his parents?"

Kōsaka nodded again, this time with barely perceptible hesitation. "Maybe I'll see you around there," he suggested with the hint of a smirk. If Nagahide were to return to the Uesugi, he meant.

This was insane. This wasn't the rather abstract idea of Minako's pregnancy, overshadowed by the despicable circumstances, but something real… A child of Naoe's. Of Kagetora's. It must be ten years of age by now. And Kōsaka – damn him…

Kōsaka naturally was gone before Nagahide could even ask him for the name of Kagetora's son.

/\/

In spite of all his dark thoughts the evening before, Kagetora found that he was glad to return to work. He had missed his well-regulated daily routine. He took a look at the paperwork piling on his desk and promptly decided to tour the ward first. He didn't want to suffer a relapse on his first day.

Around lunchtime, Kōsaka showed up, very satisfied with himself. Not only had he found out what Nagahide was doing these days and where ("Working at a university, can you imagine!") but he had also been able to waylay him between two lectures and given the renegade yashashuu one of his own as Kagetora had assigned to him.

"And?" Kagetora asked, slightly impatient.

"Didn't say yes, didn't say no. He will come sooner or later, though, believe me."

"So sure of this, are you?"

"Yes, for two reasons." Kōsaka took a seat on the edge of Kagetora's desk. "One: he wants to meet your youngster –"

"You_ told _him?"

"It was priceless. I'm sorry you couldn't see his face yourself."

"I'm not," Kagetora murmured, shaking his head. "But maybe it's better if he heard it from you." Nagahide probably hadn't even wondered what had become of Minako's body and the child it had been carrying...

"Anyway, he didn't say so, but he was very interested in your offspring."

This somewhat contrasted with Nagahide's earlier attempt on Minako's life, Kagetora thought sourly. "What gave you that idea?"

"Isn't everyone who learns about him? You must admit, it's kind of revolutionary for us kanshousha to reproduce."

Kagetora's eyes narrowed. "Did you tell him about Naoe, too? About his… condition?"

Kōsaka shook his head. "I'm leaving that to you if you don't mind. And reason number two," he went on as if he hadn't been interrupted. "Between the lines, he mentioned your father tried to contact you to no avail – and he instructed Yasuda to find out what you've been doing."

Kagetora felt all blood leave his face. "What?" he croaked.

Kōsaka shrugged. "Maybe Kenshin doesn't know that your army split up?"

"Because it didn't." Kagetora didn't as much as blink under Kōsaka's watchful gaze.

"Well," the Takeda general smirked and stood up from the table. "That's all I have to report. I'll leave you to your important day work."

Kagetora didn't look up when Kōsaka left the room. He tried to digest what he had been told. It was just as he had suspected already. His father had noticed the concealment. He was aware that he couldn't contact Kagetora – the gods alone knew how often he had tried to. So he had sought out Nagahide instead.

And if he was in contact with Nagahide… he was close to finding out about Kiheiji as well.

Kagetora buried his head in his arms when he tried to imagine how the situation presented itself to his father. The last time they had spoken had been after the first round with Nobunaga… Kagetora hadn't known what awaited him in the long run. Kenshin had expressed his pride in him for the way he had led the yashashuu through the crisis of the rise of the Oda….

And the next time Kenshin tried to contact him, Kagetora had mutwillig gone against his father's interdiction to have children, he had a son whose father happened to be another possessor, Naoe Nobutsuna of all people whom he had rendered amnesiac in the process effectively keeping Naoe from the task of protecting him which also had been Kenshin's order – and on top of it all he refused to even speak to his father.

It didn't matter that he had a few good explanations for what had happened. To dish them out he would have to make contact with Kenshin but he was too weak for that, not able to bare with that meeting. Should he ever be forgiven, Kagetora thought, an immense goodwill from Kenshin's side would be required. _Disappointed _seemed a much to soft word for what his father must be.

He had failed them all, he thought. Kenshin by betraying his trust, Kiheiji by denying him a father, Naoe by stealing his memories…

Kagetora startled. Naoe! His session!

He suppressed a curse and shot from his office. He had been so absorbedby his own trail of thoughts that he had completely forgotten the time. He was almost half an hour late for their appointment. The nurses in the corridor were giving him funny looks as he dashed by, but he didn't care.

When he turned around the corner, he was presented with an unexpected scene. Kasahara was there, all right. He was waiting outside the usual room where they had met for their former sessions. Kagetora had booked it for several weeks in advance, but he hadn't considered that somebody might have deleted those bookings during his absence.

Which might explain why Yoshida-sensei was also there, an angry vein pulsing at his temple. The way both men were facing each other with their arms crossed across the chest left no doubt that they were fighting.

They were exactly the same height, Kagetora noted approaching them – except that Yoshida was an extremely lanky person whereas Kasahara managed to fill out that tall frame of his. Kiheiji probably would, too, by the time he was twenty… This must be a new experience for both of them. They both had to be towering over other people usually.

"For the last time, clear out of here or I'll call the security personnel."

"Excuse me, do I know you?" Kasahara asked hotly.

He actually_ did_ know Yoshida, Kagetora thought, although this wasn't something he wanted to remind Kasahara of.

"I'm very sorry, I'm late, Kasahara-san," Kagetora started drawing their attention towards him, but was interrupted almost immediately by Yoshida.

"Minako-san, did you receive my note about the schedules? Since you were missing for the last two weeks, it is important that we go through the room bookings together."

"I'm afraid I totally forgot about rebooking the room for our session today," Kagetora said, his eyes still fixed on Kasahara whom this concerned first and foremost.

"I noticed," Yoshida chimed in. "I have an appointment in that room in five minutes."

"Well, maybe you can have it elsewhere? This can hardly be the only meeting room in the hospital, can it?"

"Actually, we could just –" Kagetora started.

Yoshida was not to be stopped, though. "It is hardly your place to tell us about how to run this hospital, sir and –"

"If I may make a suggestion –" Kagetora tried anew.

"I have better things to do than argue with my colleague's patients!" Yoshida bristled.

"Yes, I can see that you're totally overtaxed with that…"

The remark was so very much _Naoe _that Kagetora stared at him for a moment almost in exhilaration. For a second he might have believed to be dealing with Kagekatsu's young military commander – a position Naoe had acquired mostly by talking other people down at staff meetings.

Kagetora very much felt like turning tail and leave the two of them to their altercation. The door to Irobe's office was open, he noticed. Maybe he just could –

Yoshida sharply turned around to him. "It would probably be best if we went about the room bokkings together this evening after we're finished."

_**No! **_"Actually, I don't have time tonight," he said quickly.

Both men were suddenly staring at him with the utmost interest.

"I'm already – I mean, actually I have an engagement. I'm engaged otherwise." He made his decision within the blink of an eye as he turned to Kasahara. "Yes, er, that's what I wanted to say earlier: Dinner at nine would be great."

Now they were really all looking at him as if he had sprouted a second head. For a horrible moment, Kagetora believed Kasahara to decline his "offer" and embarrass him in public.

_That was your idea, _he thought trying not to panic. _You can't have forgotten! Come on, help me out of here!_

Kasahara broke into a soft smile. "Nine o'clock then. I'll pick you up at your house."

"Excellent," Kagetora murmured, dizzy with relief. "If you'll excuse me now."

He sought shelter in Irobe's office without deigning either man a single glance, trying to figure out just what had possessed him to behave like this. He'd have done pretty much anything than sit around with Yoshida, but to practically impose his company on Kasahara! After simply forgetting about the room and making the poor man come here in vain! How terribly rude!

He was leaning with his back against the door of Irobe's office. The elder man was bound to have heard a good deal of their conversation. He gave Kagetora a curious look.

"Two men fighting," Kagetora explained the ruckus. He shook his head incredulously, then looked at Irobe with a complete lack of understanding. "Was I also like this?"

Irobe hesitated a second too long.

Kagetora held up his hand. "Never mind. I don't need to know. By the way, I'm going out for dinner tonight." He blinked.

So did his retainer.

"With Kasahara", he added. "I just kind of bullied him into it."

"Was that why Yoshida-sensei was yelling around in the corridor?"

"More or less."

"My lord, I don't think it's wise to – hm, make a date is probably the correct term – with a patient in another doctor's presence. There are strict rules about this kind of thing at the hospital."

"Trust me, you would have done the same if it were the only way to avoid spending the evening with Yoshida and a pile of floor plans."

"Oh. You do realize that Yoshida's interested in you himself?"

"Yeah, Haruie once told me. How do you know? Oh gods!" he interrupted himself. "Haruie! She'll be having a ball when she hears about this. Do you think there's some way I can keep this dinner thing a secret from her?"

"No," Irobe answered bluntly.

"Then what am I going to do?"

"Grit your teeth would be my suggestion."

"Thanks. And would you bother to tell me what you are grinning about?"

"My lord, I'm glad for you. Between the two of us, you have the much more interesting social life."

Kagetora just buried his face in his hands.

/\/

Irobe was wondering whether he wouldn't prefer a day in the field to a day in the hospital any time when he came home after suffering two meetings in a row at his ward. Spying after the Oda had proven much better for his nerves, he mused. He was looking forward to his evening off duty with his couch, a book and maybe some well-deserved sake. Two female voices stopped him in the corridor as soon as he opened the door.

"What do you mean, your earlobes aren't pierced? They sure are. Minako was wearing studs all the time."

"But I didn't. Which means there are no piercings there anymore. Or at least it's not possible for me to wear earrings by now."

"Let me see. Surely we can try and –"

"Wait a moment, we're not trying anything. Especially not anything that's bound to hurt like hell!"

"Don't be silly, you're possessing a woman's body – you can take it. Women have a pain threshold about ten times higher than men, that's a scientifically proven fact."

"So what?"

"I did this myself many times before when my ear piercings had disappeared..."

"Haruie – no. You're not doing anything to my ears."

A heavy pause ensued.

"Give me the necklace," Kagetora sighed. "I'll wear those stupid pearls and be done with it."

"You finally see the light!"

Haruie appeared in the living room door. "Well, that was easy," she smiled.

Irobe merely raised a brow. "What's going on?"

"I wish I was living in China," Kagetora murmured, probably thinking of the unisex dress code of the Cultural Revolution, and slipped out of the room behind Haruie.

"I'm trying to teach our lord the basics of how to dress up for a date," Haruie whispered.

"Oh." Irobe decided that he was better off seeing how Kiheiji fared with his homework tonight. On his way to the kitchen, he heard Kagetora raise his voice again.

"Forget it, I'm never wearing that!"

"What's wrong with it?"

"It's much too short! Don't forget, I'll have to sit in it."

"Kagetora…" A smile had stolen into Haruie's voice. "That's kind of the point. When you stand, the skirt is covering your knees and when you sit down they show..."

"My knees really aren't Kasahara's business!"

"Oh well," Irobe heard Haruie laugh. "You can always put in your veto if he intends to take you to a traditional restaurant."

/\/

Surprisingly enough, it wasn't as tricky as Kagetora had expected to walk in shoes with heels – the lowest heels she possessed as Haruie had assured him with a wink that earned her an extremely nasty look. It felt strange, but it was actually possible to get from A to B without falling over one's own feet. You just had to concentrate for each step…

Irobe looked up from his book when Kagetora stepped through the living room door.

"Enchanting," was the verdict.

Irobe, Kagetora thought, really was the only person he could take that kind of comment lying down from. "If you say so."

He felt uncomfortable, even though he had to admit that what he saw in the mirror looked very nice: the shimmering white of the pearl necklace contrasting the black of the dress and Minako's hair. The skirt, Haruie had insisted, wasn't actually that short: it was almost wholly covering the knees when standing.

Kiheji, too, seemed impressed. He didn't say anything but intently stared at his mother whom he had never seen in a dress in all those years. Slightly embarrassed, Kagetora passed his son in the doorway and took a seat on the sofa. All of sudden, a memory came to mind of how put off they had all been roughly a century ago when they had been made sit on chairs for the first time. Now he was actually grateful that he didn't have to kneel in that short dress. Thank the Heavens for Western furniture.

On the other hand, he corrected himself, if there hadn't been Western _clothing_ with its ridiculously short skirts, he wouldn't be facing this problem at all.

"As if I didn't have anything else to do," he murmured, thinking of the difficulties awaiting him with Nagahide and Ranmaru probably plotting Nobunaga's return somewhere out there.

"It'll take your mind a bit off things," Irobe objected. "You can use a distraction, you know."

Speaking of distraction... He thoughtfully looked after Kiheiji who had left the room. "He's been acting peculiarly, hasn't he?"

"Kiheiji?"

"When I told him I was going out for dinner with Kasakara I halfway expected him to throw a fit."

"And you're disappointed that he didn't?"

"Of course not! Just surprised. I'm so locked up in my own thoughts that I'm neglecting my son. I don't know what's going on in his mind." He frowned. "Did something happen when Kasahara picked him up from school that one time? Ever since he's been so... tame." He threw Irobe a suspicious look. "You know anything about that?"

His retainer shook his head.

"Well, I'll find out," he promised himself.

"Oh?" Irobe inquired. "How?"

"I'll ask Kasahara, of course. We'll need something to talk about during dinner after all, don't we?"

Irobe hid a smile. "Naoe used to be a good conversationalist. I don't think you have to fear a lack of topics of conversation."

Kagetora just snorted.

/\/

Kiheiji was the one to open the door when Kasahara rang the doorbell at exactly 9 o'clock in the evening. He jumped at the chance to take a break from his math homework. It was unusual that a visitor came this late at night to them, but then, this had been an unusual evening. For the first time in Kiheiji's rememberance, his mother was going out with a man.

It was outrageous. His mother worked, ran, washed the dishes, read books, moaned if she had to cook and made daytrips to the seaside with him. But she didn't go out with men. That just didn't happen.

Until now. She had come home and rather casually mentioned that she was going out for dinner with Kasahara. Aunty Yuiko had been enthusiastic for some reason, She'd made a real fuss about his mother's dress and shoes. Kiheiji didn't see what was so wonderful about all this. It went over his head what his mother and that man could have to talk about all evening.

But since Kasahara was here now, they could as well get it over with. He pulled the door open.

"Good evening, Kiheiji-kun", Kasahara said politely. Contrary to Kiheiji's mother who usually walked around in very casual clothes and tonight had put on a dress for the first time ever, he was dressed in a suit with a tie just as he always was. He looked serene as usual if slightly nervous.

"Good evening, Kasahara-san."

Kiheiji was slightly at a loss about how to behave towards the man. He wasn't exactly pleased that Kasahara wanted to ausführen his mother. On the other hand, he was still somewhat grateful for Kasahara's intervention at the schoolyard two weeks ago.

Kiheiji had rechnen with Yoshio's revenge any day after the incident. But the fact that an adult had been involved seemed to keep them at bay. They were eying him hatefully from afar, but never dared to approach him. Kiheiji was unsure whether he should feel relieved by this – it certainly made his life easier if he didn't have to be on the lookout for Yoshio and his moron friends all the time.

Kasahara thankfully didn't raise the subject of his bullies at school. That wasn't what he had come for, either.

Kiheiji suppressed a sigh. "I'll tell my mother you're here."

/\/

Kagetora yearned for his sneakers. He found that Haruie's shoes made Minako's lily-white feet looked extremely delicate.

_How am I going to run in those if anything... happens?_

"'kaa-san?"

His date had arrived, it seemed. Sighing inaudibly, Kagetora got up from the sofa, promptly rolling his ankle. He supressed a curse. Yoshida was in for it, that much was clear to him. Without the man's stupidities earlier today, he wouldn't be in this ridiculous situation.

He hadn't solved the shoe dilemma. The heels weren't for running, but maybe he didn't have to make that kind of decision tonight. Maybe Kasahara wouldn't try to anything that forced him to run…

Or maybe a kind bus would hit him on the way to the restaurant.

/\/

**Author's note: **I think this story now officially qualifies as "dark fluff" /ducks away/

Of course, I planned to include Kagetora actually going out with Kasahara in this chapter, but it just became too long – and I didn't want to split the date scene in half. So that's something you can look forward to in the next chapter. I certainly am ^_^

**Next chapter:** "Let's say in a fight, he never would have picked the losing side."

Since this is the last update in this calendar year, I wish you all a wonderful, successful, healthy and generally enjoyable 2012 ! ^_^ Thank you so much for your patience with me and this never-ending story!


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: **I'm including something in this chapter one of you asked for a little while ago.

Enjoy :-)

/\/

**CHAPTER TEN**

/\/

Lost in his thoughts, Kagetora reached for his usual canvas jacket, prompting Haruie to hastily step in and press a thin, black overcoat from her own stocks into his hand. Oh. All right, then. At least he remembered to let Kasahara open the door for him.

And then, of course, he had to ruin the gesture by recalling all of a sudden that he had yet to give his final instructions for the evening to Haruie and Kiheiji. He turned on his heel (and by some small miracle didn't stumble again). Poking his head into the living-room once more, he gave Kiheiji a firm glance.

"Lights out at nine!"

Haruie grinned at him broadly. A tiny smile also tugged at Kiheiji's lips. Kagetora was at a loss about what his son was thinking about all this, but as long as he wasn't upset about his mother going out to dinner with a man, it should be fine with him.

Much to Kagetora's chagrin, they didn't meet one, but several of his neighbours on the way downstairs. Obviously, the old hags – as Haruie preferred to call them – had nothing better to do than stand and watch the only single woman in their apartment building being escorted down the stairs by a tall, good-looking stranger. One even turned to her friend to whisper into the other woman's ear, never taking her eyes off Minako's "suitor".

"Your neighbours sure take an active interest in what you're doing," Kasahara remarked.

"Absolutely," Kagetora answered loud enough for his neighbours to hear. "I've been under constant surveillance ever since I moved into this house."

"Oh? Why is that?" Kasahara asked when they stepped out on the street.

"I'm suspicious," Kagetora shrugged. "I'm a single woman with a young child and no husband. I turned up who-knows-where-from, so nobody can testify to my respectability. They're more or less secretly convinced that I made up my marriage."

"I can understand them," Kasahara said much to Kagetora's surprise.

He turned and gave the man a sharp glance. "Oh, really?"

"Of course. You're living their own dreams – or at least, they believe you are which practically amounts to the same."

Kagetora blinked. "Their dreams?"

"Their dreams of being freed from society's expectations, of being with other men than the ones they married a long time ago. They would have liked to but never dared and they blame you for apparently taking that freedom. I bet the men were never as hostile towards to as the women."

"You really believe that?" Kagetora asked. Kasahara couldn't know but what he had just described was named projection in psychology: ascribing one's own thoughts, feelings and secret longings to one's fellow man.

"I do. It's called projection in psychology, isn't it?" Kasahara laughed softly at his stunned gaze. "No need to look so surprised! You know I've been spending a lot of time with psychologists – something's bound to get stuck. All these old or middle-aged women unhappy with their marriages are bound to envy a young one who's responsible to no one and can enjoy her life to the fullest."

Kagetora gave him a scolding look. "Not everyone believes in switching partners at a regular basis as a way to enjoy one's life to the fullest. You just think that because it's your –"

"Because it's my kind of lifestyle?" Kasahara suggested.

Kagetora held his gaze for a moment before returning it to the street in front of them. How on earth had such a topic come up at all? "And it's none of my business."

He could hear the smile in Kasahara's voice. "You're my doctor, everything about me is your business."

"I wouldn't know," Kagetora murmured. He almost walked by the car parked a couple of houses away from his own. Kasahara pointed it out to him by opening the door on the passenger side.

"You didn't think I wouldn't arrange for proper transportation, did you?"

It had been years since he had last driven a car, Kagetora realized with a pang of regret. Besides the fact that there was never enough money around to afford one, it wouldn't have made much sense to have one either: Tokyoites got everywhere by metro. Even at six in the morning it would have been impossible to find a parking slot anywhere near his workplace. It was much better not to have to worry about such things in the first place.

He missed it, though, the feeling of control, the speed…Making himself comfortable in the passenger seat while Kasahara closed the door on his side, he realized that he hadn't been this close to a wheel in almost ten years. The car smelled new, of leather and freshly adjusted seat fabric.

He could feel his fingers itch looking at the wheel and the gear box. It would be so easy to bring up the subject of how much he had loved to drive in younger years and –

Of course, he bit his tongue before he could ask anything that audacious.

/\/

Minako was watching very closely what he was doing, Kasahara noticed stopping in front of a streetlight.

In a magazine – and he had been skimming through quite a bit of those while waiting in what felt like a hundred different doctors' practices over the years – he had once found an article according to which most women believed that a man's character showed in his way of driving a car. He wondered what Minako might be detecting from his driving skills.

She was being very quiet, her attention focused on his driving in a way that bordered on impolite. He didn't mind, though. It gave him all the time in the world to watch her from the corner of his eye. She didn't notice, of course. She never did when he stared at her. Kasahara suppressed a smile. He had never met a woman this little aware of her own beauty.

All this time before, she had always been very cautious when he was around – she used to completely focus on him almost as if the tiniest slip of attention might cost her dearly. Now, her attention was elsewhere for the first time. He was just wondering whether this might mean her softening a little towards him, when she stunned him dead again.

"So, how many hp does it have?" she asked, curiously watching the speedometer.

Kasahara could feel his mouth fall open in a decidedly undignified manner. The things she was interested in!

"I'm afraid I don't know," he answered when he had regained his composure. "It's a company car, I don't have one of my own."

"Oh, so you wouldn't know." She looked slightly crestfallen, just as if the answer had been really important to her.

"I believe it's one of those new ones that employ a white light to show when it's put into reverse."

Her face positively lit up. "Is it really? I've never seen one up close."

Inwardly shaking his head, he scanned his brain for snippets of facts he had caught about the engine of the car model.

/\/

His thoughts preoccupied with the various features of the car, Kagetora practically forgot to ask where Kasahara was leading him at all. They had spoken about dinner, so he expected a restaurant, maybe a traditional one, when they stopped in front of a large glass palace somewhere in Shinjuku.

From the outside, it seemed to be one of those huge hotels they had met in sometimes during their fight against Nobunaga. Kagetora ever since associated this kind of place with a mixture of giddiness and boredom, agitated arguments, bad coffee coming by the litre and falling asleep as soon as his head would hit the pillow. Therefor he was completely unprepared for the atmosphere that engulfed them as soon as the doors closed behind them.

The light was very pleasant: a mixture of electricity and candles, it perfectly integrated the blue and silver decoration of the walls. A small pond in the middle of the hall with tiny artificial cascades filling the air with their chortling completed the composition. Just by standing here and listening, Kagetora already felt a large part of the day's stress vanish into thin air.

It seemed that Kasahara had found them a place of quietness in the middle of the city.

"Do you like it?"

"Very," Kagetora had to admit. "How did you find it?" he asked and regretted the question immediately. The last thing he wanted was for Kasahara to tell him about any past dates he had brought here!

"I didn't." The man put a hand on his elbow as the waiter gestured for them to follow him. "There's another place of the same name in Shinjuku. Our secretary is new and made a mistake when she booked a table for a customer meeting here instead."

"Oh." Suddenly and inexplicably pleased with the world in general (as well as with the fact that he hadn't stumbled once since he had gotten out of the car), Kagetora took a seat opposite of his companion.

"This place became a kind of insiders' tip among our sales people and one of them recommended it to me. I visited it about a week before after work and found it suitable for you."

"Is that what you've been doing in the evenings since you left our house?" Kagetora asked to downplay his embarrassment about Kasahara putting such an effort into this whole business.

"Usually, I don't do much at all so far", he answered. "There isn't so much to do except work – and maybe I should buy a bit of furniture now and then."

Kagetora blinked. "I'm prying," he murmured. "Excuse me."

"On the contrary, I don't mind at all." Kasahara smiled at him. "But what I actually had in mind when I invited you here was a kind of trade-off."

"Oh?" Kagetora asked, pretty sure that he knew what was going to come.

"We've known each other for several months now, but I still know little more about you than I did on the first day."

"Maybe there just isn't a lot to know. I think I'm one of the most boring people around."

/\/

Kasahara would have liked to laugh, but refrained from it. He could feel that she meant what she said. "I don't think so at all," he said softly.

The look he received could only be described as doubtful. "Take your profession for example," he tried to explain. "I'm a controller myself, as you know."

Minako nodded. The topic had come up during one of their sessions.

"Of course, we're constantly being told about the importance of our work and it makes us feel quite important ourselves, but let's face it: it doesn't matter that much if I hand in this or that report today or tomorrow. What you're doing is completely different. People's lives depend on you."

"I'm not actually in the life saving department," Minako added for consideration.

"You're in the sanity saving department. I believe that is just as important or actually, it might very well be the same for the people you are seeing to."

She lowered her gaze. Still smiling, he let his own follow. Each holding on to their respective glass of wine, their hands were lying beside each other on the table. He couldn't help noticing how much smaller hers were – lovely fine-boned hands with short fingernails and not an ounce of polish.

/\/

Looking at the strong, slender fingers of Naoe's host body, Kagetora couldn't help imagine them holding Minako down, bruising the tender flesh of her wrists. He had only seen flashes of what had happened during those agonizing seconds when his soul had been pushing hers out of the body he was still possessing today, but even that had been quite enough. Also, his own experience helped him fill the gaps.

And this man had done it. This handsome, sophisticated appearance regarding him from familiar greyish eyes… Just as with the rest of them, Naoe's eyes would always remain the same, no matter which body he possessed. The eyes were just the same and so were the memories of his crime were buried somewhere, out of reach. Did that make him someone different, someone innocent of all wrongs of the past? Was that possible?

Not for the first time tonight, he would have liked to reach out for the barrier in Naoe's mind and put it to the test to see if it still stood strong. He didn't dare. Kasahara was bound to notice, even if he didn't remember and therefor didn't know about such things. And if he did remember…

Kagetora forced himself to breathe even and focus on the here and now. "I don't see it like that," he referred to his job.

"We others do," Kasahara insisted. "Kiheiji does. He is very proud of what you're doing. "

The casual mention of their child made Kagetora take a deep breath. _He would never sit here like this with me if he knew…_

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"You picked him up from school a couple of weeks ago."

Kasahara nodded.

"What happened?" Kagetora probed, dismissing any plans of addressing the matter discreetly. "Did you have a heart-to-heart with him or something like that?"

Kasahara laughed. "Why are you asking?"

"It's just that ever since he hasn't been as hostile towards you as he used to be. So I'm wondering."

"He was just getting ready for a fight with four older kids when I showed up."

"You intervened," Kagetora took a guess.

"You bet I did," Kasahara answered emphatically. "I mean, four of them? Seriously…"

Kagetora frowned. From an early age on, he had made sure that his son knew the basics of self-defence. In the sixties, the news coverage on topics such as child abuse and sexual assaults on children (often in combination with murder) had gone up, but of course, the growing public awareness of those dangers wasn't the only reason, he had taken a special interest in Kiheiji being able to defend himself. Given his own experiences several centuries ago, Kagetora was in the best position to know that the good old times when such things didn't happen had in fact never existed. People just liked to think that.

In a way, he knew he should be glad that is son so far had only ever had to put those techniques to use against peers, not against adults who meant to harm him. But now he wondered for the first time if the tricks he had been taught hadn't made Kiheiji over-confident in such matters.

"How did he react?"

"Not too pleased to see me, but he warmed up a bit afterwards."

Kagetora's eyes widened. So it had been Kiheiji who had given Naoe the hint with the morning glories! Go figure.

/\/

A tiny smirk appeared on Minako's face. "Did he happen to tell you what went on before?"

"Why they were out to get him, you mean? Do tell."

She put her chin into the palm of her hand. "Kiheiji got into a fight with one of the boys, it seems. To avenge himself, he stole a bucket of pink paint from the art classroom and poured it over their bicycles."

Kasahara burst out laughing. "That's quite original, actually. Did it come off again?"

"I've no idea. Anyway, ever since they've been having it in for him. I can't even say that I blame them."

"Is this exceptional? Or does he tend to get into fights?" Kasahara found that he wouldn't be surprised to receive a positive answer on that one.

"Only with fellow students. Not to mention the – oh, fifty times I had to come and talk to his teachers or the principal."

Kasahara laughed.

"Sometimes I wonder where he gets it from," Minako murmured. Her eyes were taking one a far-away expression as if she were recalling her own childhood. "I was brought up to adjust easily and keep my own thoughts to myself, to be obedient and respectful and to never shame my family." She drew a deep breath. "And his father was... exceptionally able when it came to keeping himself out of trouble and looking after his own interests."

Kasahara tilted his head. Thus, the topic of her late husband had come up much sooner than he had expected, and even without him prompting it.

"Sometimes, looking after one's own interests means to fight," he suggested.

Her amber gaze settled on him as if she found what he had said to be profound. "Let's say in a fight, he never would have picked the losing side."

Kasahara was astonished by this characterization. Plus he had the impression of an underlying sense to the remark – as if there was more to it than he was able to catch on. There was a kind of spark in her eyes when she said this, almost as if she were challenging him to further pursue the subject.

"Pardon me for saying so – but you make him seem like a complete opportunist."

Minako fell silent for a long moment. When she finally spoke, she seemed to choose her words extremely carefully, indicating just how important this whole matter was to her.

"When I first met him, it wouldn't have been that far from the truth to call him an opportunist. He was interested in nothing but his own advantage – or so it seemed to me. As if there was nothing more to him but a deep interest in himself, but at the same time he knew exactly how to disguise this rather petty sense of self-preservation with talk about values such as honour and loyalty."

Kasahara raised a brow. "You weren't exactly smitten with him when you first met him."

"We… weren't exactly friends when circumstance forced us to work together. At first, I thought him a very cold person."

"But he wasn't?"

"He was." A tiny sad smile was reflecting in Minako's eyes. "He was just passionate about some things, too."

Kasahara smiled. "I'm not surprised you had that effect on him."

"Now you're jumping to conclusions." She avoided his gaze.

He couldn't very well tell her that he had been quizzing Sasaki-sensei about her relationship with her late husband – and that the old man had implied the moral influence she had wielded over him. Besides, what would a man be passionate about if not his woman?

"I'm merely watching your interaction with others, sensei," he said in a slightly teasing tone. "Surely you must know that you do have quite an influence on people. Most of them let themselves be ordered around by you without even thinking much of it."

"You're mistaken," she answered simply. "Not about the outcome maybe, but about my measures. Every time I order people around as you put it, I'm secretly surprised that they actually do what I'm telling them."

/\/

_What am I saying? _Kagetora narrowed his eyes at his own most irrational behaviour. This was hardly something he would ever admit to, and for good reasons. He gave the bottle of wine a suspicious glance.

Kasahara laughed softly and a little amazed at the statement. "You're a very honest character, Minako-sensei… honest to a fault, one might say."

_You should be tired of lying…_

Kagetora ever so slightly shook his head to throw off the memory, even though it wasn't uninteresting how Kasahara could come to a completely different conclusion about his character than Naoe had. This was where their differences ended, though, Kagetora thought with slight exasperation. Just like his alter ego that Kagetora knew much better, Kasahara had set his mind on him, to get to know him.

There was something however about Kasahara that made him spill his guts in a very casual way. He did his given name honour, Kagetora thought. Yuuto – a character of persistence. As for himself, he was playing a familiar game with altered rules here, Kagetora realized. He was once again trying to convince Naoe that the latter was dealing with just another human being when dealing with him – fallible, weak and insecure, just like the rest of them.

And just like last time, he wasn't being believed – if for different reasons as it seemed.

It happened within a split second. Relief permeated every fibre of his body. He could feel himself relaxing into his chair.

_He doesn't know._

Without a thought, he sent a heartfelt smile over to Kasahara.

_He isn't hiding anything. _

A sudden wave of exhilaration drowned any trace of the bad conscience Kagetora had harboured about concealing the truth from Naoe as he did. With a slightly curious look in his eyes, Kasahara returned the smile before he ordered the bill. If he wondered about Kagetora's sudden mood swing, he didn't show it. His hands came to rest on Kagetora's shoulders for a split second when he helped him into Haruie's coat.

Stepping out onto the street was a bit like waking up from a pleasant dream. It wasn't actually dark, there was never real dark in Tokyo – especially not on this broad avenue flanked by high trees with streetlights between them. It was much noisier, though.

"Let's walk a bit," Kasahara suggested. For a second Kagetora believed he might offer his arm to him and felt himself tense already. But Kasahara proved himself to be adaptive and did no such thing. They walked side by side in a slightly tense and stretching silence that made Kagetora wonder what he could say or do to break it. Thankfully, he found the answer without further wrecking his brains about it.

"My duty starts at 5 pm tomorrow. When do you have to get up?" he asked.

"You mean today?" Kasahara smiled.

Oh. Right. He hadn't realized how late it was getting.

Although there had been a variety of quiet times in his life ever since Aso – caring for Kiheiji when he was a baby, spending hundreds of hours brooding in silence over his textbooks for university trying to wrap his own brain around Minako's topics of fascination, playing with his son, cleaning the flat, running miles and miles along a deserted coastline – he wasn't used to do anything for the sake of its own.

He couldn't remember ever doing anything just for the fun of it in all this time. The child had to be cared for, so that's what he did. Somehow he had to pay the rent, so he took up studying medicine and working at a hospital. And in order not to lose his nerve about this strange new normal life he was forced to lead, he had started running. Free time was scarce and he was actually glad to be so busy. But now he suddenly felt himself seized by the desire to do something out of the ordinary. To stop thinking and worrying about the future, about his mission, about Kenshin finding out about his grandson, about Naoe showing up on his doorstep and demanding explanations… to simply enjoy the mild night and the (so far) unobtrusive company.

It was a dangerous thought – as he was very much aware of, even while it went through his brain. He would be damned if he let himself be lulled into a false sense of security by Kasahara's gentle, deferent ways. He vowed not to let his guard down. And if he had to break into a run, he'd rather do it without the shoes, he decided.

He stopped and gestured for Kasahara to wait for him. Maybe the alcohol had indeed slightly gotten the better of him – females had a lower tolerance than men, wasn't that another one of Haruie's "scientifically proven facts"? – or maybe there simply was no other way of proceeding as he planned without losing his equilibrium. In any case he found himself putting a hand on Kasahara's lower arm, surprising both himself and his companion. Leaning onto the man's arm, Kagetora fingered for the straps of Haruie's ankle-ties and took off one after the other.

"They're killing me," he shrugged as an explanation for his less than ladylike behaviour. Haruie wouldn't be too happy about this, but then, neither of them had to tell her.

Kasahara smiled. "I've wanted to say before: it's a lovely outfit you're wearing."

"Says the one who doesn't have to wear it."

Kasahara raised a brow. "Me in a dress and high heels would be kind of strange. Can you imagine me wearing that?"

"No," Kagetora answered unable to keep a sarcastic undertone from his voice. "I can hardly imagine myself wearing that."

If Kasahara caught the undertone, he didn't show it. "It suits you quite well."

"I'm not so sure about that," Kagetora murmured.

"Certainly, you must have taken a look into the mirror before we left?" Kasahara suggested.

"I'm not really used to all that." He paused. "Dinners and flowers and… and doors being held open for me – that's not me," he tried to explain without hope of Kasahara understanding.

"Too much attention, is that it?"

Naoe would have screwed up at this moment – or long before, actually. Kagetora was sure of it. But Kasahara... well, he was obviously taking his daily dose of whatever it was that made him say exactly the right things at exactly the right moment. Or sometimes – as now – he was hitting a bit too close to home for Kagetora to find it comfortable.

Naoe had called it his flaw – his inability to form relationships, to put his trust in somebody completely. What could easily be misinterpreted as strength was in fact a dangerous weakness. However, what had taken Naoe centuries to find out, Kasahara had caught on within the course of a few months… It was slightly unsettling, to say the least.

And speaking of attention –

Kasahara's mild greyish gaze was suddenly looming close. That much for not letting his guard down. He had stepped nearer without Kagetora noticing.

Kagetora felt an unpleasant jolt go through his body and got ready to retreat from the man's larger frame, only to find that Kasahara had placed his hands to both sides of his face. Gentle fingertips were gliding over his ear shells.

Kagetora opened his mouth to immediately call a halt to all this and felt his breath catch in his lungs. Technically, the man wasn't holding him in place, nor was he employing any force while slowly closing the space between them.

_Now what was I going to say,_ Kagetora asked himself through the haze. _Oh, right. Tell him to stop…_

Except that he didn't say anything. In his mind, everything seemed to slow down. He just stood frozen, unable to stop their breath from intermingling or Kasahara's lips from finally brushing over his own, light as feathers.

/\/

All right. What he had just done contradicted each and every rule ever set for first dates, Kasahara knew. He simply hadn't been able to stop himself.

She was just too lovely in whatever deep thoughts he could only guess at: her eyes large and dark in her pale face, a nervous vein throbbing right beneath the fragile skin of her neck.

A shop window exploded right next to them.

A strand of Minako's hair hit his face, blinding him for a second. The damaged shop's alarm siren went off.

Kasahara never knew what was happening until it happened.

He felt no fear. Without thinking, he took a step forward, shielding Minako's body against the onslaught, lifting his right hand against the flashes of lightning flying towards them in a horizontal line.

Part of him wasn't even surprised that by some strange miracle the flashes seemed to collide with an invisible barrier inches in front of his outstretched fingers.

/\/

This was something Kagetora hadn't experienced in nearly a decade: the sensation of someone putting up a barrier between him and another's attack. As much as he would have liked to ask one of the dozens of questions running through his bewildered mind like a rapid stream _("Do you remember how did you do that are you hurt what are you thinking do you remember me?") _his attention was drawn elsewhere. They seemed to be under attack after all – and it didn't take him a heartbeat to conclude whom it came from.

Burnt child that he was, the first thing Kagetora did was lower his gaze to the ground surrounding them to inspect it for the tell-tale signs of an absorption seal. While he had no idea if Ranmaru was actually capable of doing this without Nobunaga's help, being held in an enemy _kekkai_ that rendered his own powers unusable hadn't exactly been an experience he wanted to repeat any time soon.

But this didn't seem to be the case. Not a second too early, Kagetora whirled around, scanning the near-deserted street and the spaces between the trees for signs of enemy movement. With a soft thud, Mori Ranmaru landed on the pavement a few metres away from them and gave Kagetora an amused glance while bowing with the dramatic grace of a kabuki actor.

/\/

**Author's Note: **Let's leave it at that for today, shall we? ^_~

I've been asked repeatedly about where the title of this fic comes from. Actually, when you google "Nights with Matches and Knives", this story will come up first ^_^, but the title is a line from a song by Indigo Girls: "Blood and Fire".

I found some of the lines quite fitting Kagetora:

_I am looking for someone who can take as much as I give_

_Give back as much as I need and still have the will to live_

_I am intense, I am in need, I am in pain, I am in love_

_I feel forsaken like the things I gave away_

_But blood and fire are too much for these restless arms to hold_

_And my nights of desire are calling me back to your fold_

**Next chapter: **"Our relationship wasn't a very good one, was it?"

"Let's say it was good, but difficult. I could never quite understand why my father gave the task of watching over me to you of all people."


	11. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER**** ELEVEN**

/\/

"Minako!" Kasahara's voice was strained. "Are you all right?"

His thoughts racing, Kagetora whirled around to Kasahara and locked eyes with him – effectively turning his back at an enemy. With Kasahara still holding up his very excellent _kekkai _he could actually afford to. It seemed truly amazing to him that Naoe's powers had remained this intact in spite of his memory loss. Irobe needn't have worried, Kagetora thought a little wistful. Kasahara's eyes though flickered between himself and Ranmaru in the most flabbergasted manner possible. The attack had called a reflex of the past to life, but that didn't mean that Kasahara understood what was going on.

Luckily so.

"I'm fine."

The man's blatant demonstration of ability notwithstanding, Kagetora had never before been this much aware of dealing with somebody other than Naoe. With somebody he had to protect for a change – be it from any inappropriate remark of Ranmaru's or anything that might suggest to Kasahara that there was even more wrong with the world as he believed to know it than he had seen so far.

_How the hell am I going to explain any of this to him?_

"Please," Kagetora asked with as much sincerity as he could muster. "Don't say anything. Don't do anything except for if I tell you so. Please trust me. I'll explain everything later, just…" He broke off when it suddenly came to his mind just what they had been doing before being interrupted.

For a second, he felt almost glad to have Ranmaru around to deal with. But even in his current agitation, he was aware that Kasahara could hardly be sharing those feelings. It wasn't his fault either that this special kind of "attention" freaked Kagetora out more than anything Ranmaru could possibly come up with.

Kasahara whose gaze had gone more and more incredulous looked very much like he wanted to ask at least a couple of question anyway, but then he nodded with only the slightest hesitation. Relieved, Kagetora turned around to where Ranmaru was giving him a lazy smile.

"Good evening, Kagetora-dono. I hope you'll forgive me for interrupting."

Of course, the little freak had to walk in on… that. What next?

"Think nothing of it," Kagetora dismissed his words coldly. In spite of the dire situation at hand, he felt his brows rise at the sight of the body Mori Ranmaru had picked this time for his reincarnation: a fine-boned youth no older than sixteen with glossy hair falling over his slanting eyes. In short, the body fit his pattern. It went completely over Kagetora's head how anybody could pick this sort of body voluntarily, but it made sense for Nobunaga's loyal plaything to stick to the kind of vessels that would please his master.

"I must say, you're in much better shape than when I last saw you," Ranmaru told him in a conversational tone, his eyes taking in Kagetora's own appearance. "Pretty dress, by the way."

"Why, thank you," Kagetora answered politely. Fortunately he had gotten rid of the impossible shoes before, he thought. He never even would have considered flight, had he been on his own, but he had Kasahara with him. Kasahara… who was looking back and forth between them as if trying hard to make sense of all this and failing. He must be thinking hard now why this youngster would address Minako as Kagetora, he figured.

"You sure are a romantic", Ranmaru added as if determined to make things worse. "Keeping your woman's body for such a long time." His gaze fixed on Naoe as if only noticing him now. "And a trusting person."

More than ever before Kagetora wished fiercely they would have found the little rat right after the battle at Aso and wrung his neck once and for all. How many more hints at an unfortunate past Kagetora had done his best to make Naoe forget could he have given in the first thirty seconds? Only with some extremely dumb luck, Kasahara would be too busy wondering about the energy phenomena he had witnessed earlier to be listening in too closely on their conversation.

/\/

There was something weird about the way this young man was talking. Bratty as he seemed there was something almost too mature about his demeanour.

"Did you just drop for small talk or is there a point to you running about smashing windows?" Minako asked. To Kasahara, that bored drawl of hers was just another amazing thing in a pretty incredible situation.

The youth threw them a toothy grin. "I heard you were looking for me. So I thought I'd catch up with you."

"That's ever so thoughtful of you."

"Also, I had something to tell you and decided I could deliver the message myself just as well. Kagetora-dono –"

Kasahara narrowed his eyes. He couldn't make sense of that one for the life of him. It was almost as if they were performing a play – or as if he himself had stumbled into some kind of enactment. This strange boy – he was playing a role for sure. There was something unsettling about the combination of youthful appearance and the conjecture of steely determination underneath that shell.

The boy was giving Minako a cold, intent look that made Kasahara take a step closer to her. "Don't pit your old man and that Takeda half-life against the Oda clan unless you want them both to suffer."

"Threats now, Ranmaru?" Minako didn't seem the least bit intimidated by the little psychopath. "Since when are you wasting your time like this? Don't you have a burial ground to haunt?"

"Those aren't threats, Uesugi," the boy answered contemptuously.

"Oh. Then you must really care about their well-being and I misjudged you all those – years. You're actually a gentle soul."

"I wouldn't be the first person you misjudge, would I? Your own gentle soul tends to put its trust in the wrong people, doesn't it?" His smiling face nodded towards Kasahara who frowned at the words. _And what exactly do you think you know about me, brat?_

Minako's jaw clenched. For a moment, control of the situation seemed to slip from her grasp. "Let that be the least of your worries," she advised him.

"On the contrary. I would hate to see you in as pitiful a condition as during our last encounter ever again." The boy's eyes sought out Kasahara's again. "Didn't he have a hand in that somehow?"

_What? _Kasahara gaped at the youth who answered with an amicable smile. He was completely flabbergasted. But underneath his discomposure at those words another dreadful suspicion was aroused, the sinking feeling that there was only one good explanation for this: this boy had known him then. As had Minako. Something had happened that involved them all and he had… done it.

Minako's voice cut through his shock. "As nice as it is chatting with you, Ranmaru, I'd appreciate it if you could get to the point now."

"I made it already, Kagetora-dono. Whistle back your dogs if you don't want them to be shot."

"Yes, you said so." Minako nodded thoughtfully. "And you came yourself. Is that because there is nobody else you could order to do it? Does the powerful Oda clan currently consist of – you?"

"Or that's what he wants us to believe," a new voice joined in. Kasahara turned around. That strange Kōsaka character was stepping into the middle of the road, smiling at them before he lifted both arms and sent a beam of light towards them.

/\/

Kagetora took a deep breath, surprised at the calm Kōsaka's unhoped-for appearance evoked within him. Not that the little stunt he just pulled was helping much.

"A Takeda taking orders from a Uesugi. Now I've seen it all," Ranmaru said after he'd ducked out of the way of Kōsaka's and aimed one of his own at the Takeda general.

Kagetora rolled his eyes and resorted to a spell of his own that absorbed Ranmaru's before coming back towards him. It hit a bridge pillar behind Nobunaga's favourite that caved in like a kicked coke can. While Ranmaru was nowhere to be seen, people were gaping at them open-mouthed from behind the windows of their cars.

"Now you've done it," Kōsaka said as if he himself didn't have anything to do with the situation escalating like this.

"I can see that for myself!" Kagetora snapped, feeling less than thrilled with the fact that they had attracted a crowd – even though it was highly unlikely than any of these people understood what they had seen. He tried to ignore how perfect it felt to use his powers in combat after that long a time. "Go after him," he commanded. "Now more than ever."

The ghost of a smile appeared on Kōsaka's gaunt features. "You should come", he suggested. "It's probably been a while since the little runt got his ass kicked by someone in a skirt."

"Go," Kagetora said again. He looked at Naoe, his heart sinking. "I'm taking Kasahara home."

/\/

His muddled brain proved unable to come up with an even remotely good explanation to everything he had witnessed tonight. Minako ordering the two men around like an army general would his minions by far wasn't the funniest of the happenings. And what about _she_ taking _him_ home? If he hadn't been too busy being flabbergasted about everything else, he might have raised a brow about it.

"Can you drive a car?" she asked softly.

He nodded, too dumbstruck to do anything else. "You…" he began. "What did you –"

"Later," she interrupted. "We have to get back first."

Anger bubbled up in his chest, finally, but he swallowed it down as he got into the car beside her. The lights of the nightly city merged to a blur of red and white as they drove in silence.

Yuiko and Kiheiji were standing in the door of Minako's flat when they arrived. The boy was barefoot and in pyjamas. The young woman was standing right behind him, both of her hands placed on the boy's shoulders. Her eyes flashing in between Minako and himself told him that she was bursting with questions but didn't dare voice them aloud, probably because of his presence.

So she was also in the know, Kasahara mused, anger bubbling up in his stomach. Of course. They all knew something he didn't: the source of what he had seen earlier. The flashlights, the power blasts and the barriers against them. And for reasons he didn't even begin to understand, he was part of it, too. He, too, had employed those powers without missing a beat, without even thinking about it.

Minako meanwhile took one look at her son's bare feet and calmly said: "Socks."

Kiheiji continued to hold her gaze for several more seconds, then nodded and went to his room. Minako rubbed both his palms over his face as if to drive away tiredness by doing so.

Kasahara looked at her, filled with distrust. _Are you not afraid? _She had asked him weeks ago and frozen when he remembered hearing those words before. From her, by now he had no doubts about it anymore. What was it that had frightened her then? What had she been hiding from him all this time?

Minako opened her eyes and looked at him as if reading his thoughts. "We'll talk", she murmured. "But I have to check on my son first." She went after Kiheiji without sparing Kasahara another glance.

Suppressing his irritation, he paced the room when his gaze fell on the wooden warrior statue that had raised his curiosity before. The strict eyes of the deity didn't help to diminish his resentment. To Kasahara, they looked extremely reproachful. He glared back as if everything were the little statuette's fault.

/\/

Kagetora crossed the room with quick, silent steps and knelt down next to Kiheiji's bed. After all that had happened tonight, he shouldn't have been surprised to find his son wide awake at is return. He made sure that the young boy was tucked in and was kept warm. Smoothing down the cheerfully-coloured bed cover, Kagetora was searching for the right words to address the matter at hand.

"Did we wake you?" he finally asked.

His son's eyes were large and full of worry in his pale face. "What happened?" Kiheiji whispered.

"How about you tell me?" Kagetora whispered back and gently ran his hand over the boy's cheek. He stopped in the middle of the movement as he remembered how Kiheiji's father had touched his own cheeks a couple of hours earlier. "Did you hear something or see?" he probed further.

"There was something." Kiheiji stared at his mother intently. "Something around you. Like a bubble or so."

Kagetora stared at his offspring. He had been able to sense that? The protection employed by Naoe? He paused. What did his son usually sense of him when they were apart? Was it the same it was for his retainers?

"You needn't worry about it," he tried to calm down the young boy.

Kiheiji fell silent, biting his lips. "Did he do that?" he brought himself to ask. "Kasahara?"

Kagetora nodded. "Kasahara-san," he corrected automatically.

"Kasahara-san…" Kiheiji seemed to chew a bit on that piece of information. "Why?" he finally asked. "Was something the matter?"

"Nothing much," Kagetora shrugged it off. "He just wanted to make sure I'm all right." He couldn't help thinking that when Kiheiji employed this calm, curious look as he did now, he looked very much like his father.

"You can tell him…" Kihijei trailed off.

"I can tell him?" Kagetora suppressed a smile.

"That he did well. Protecting you and all." It wasn't to be ignored how much this kind of statement cost him.

"I'll do that," Kagetora promised. "Now go to sleep, will you?"

Kiheji nodded and turned to his side. Kagetora got up from his bedside and left the room. _No one is going to get to you,_ he vowed silently as he pulled the door shut. _No one…_

Returning to the living room, he found his retainers standing in the middle of it as if discussing secret matters. Not a word was spoken though, or even whispered. They broke apart when he stepped closer.

Kasahara looked shaken. Actually, it was a small miracle that he hadn't lost his patience so far. Kagetora was pretty much convinced that he himself in Kasahara's shoes would have started yelling around, demanding explanations, maybe even smashing a thing or two… But Naoe was different from him, always had been.

Kagetora took a deep breath and steeled himself for what was to come at this late hour. Irobe had told him once that sooner or later he would have to let Kasahara in on the truth – or at least part of it. Sooner or later and now was as good a moment as any other for that, probably even better than most...

"Say," Kagetora started stepping towards Kasahara. "Do you believe in reincarnation?"

Irobe and Haruie were watching with their mouths open.

/\/

The tea candles had burned down by the time Kagetora was about finished explaining things. Outside on the balcony, the air had freshened up considerably. Haruie caught herself thinking that Kasahara would have to stay the night.

Kagetora had talked for almost an hour, speaking of Kenshin, of the collective bloodbath of the Sengoku era, of the hosts of vengeful spirits the civil wars had given birth to, of the mission of the Meikai Uesugi Army and its ongoing battle against Oda Nobunaga.

"_The_ Oda Nobunaga?" Kasahara asked which was one of the few times he interrupted their lord to ask questions. All in all, he reacted rather well to his newfound, although still second-hand knowledge. Even a modern-day person like him would have heard of Nobunaga, Haruie thought with a grimace. Or maybe he was grateful to be familiar at least with one tiny little aspect of the tale. Everything else – from the powers granted to them all by Bishamonten to Naoe Nobutsuna's role as Kagetora's sworn guardian.

Kagetora was watching Kasahara intently while the man tried to make sense of what he had just heard. "Why was I ever chosen for this?" he finally asked.

"Kenshin-kō decided on who was to join me," Kagetora answered elusively.

"But how did he come to pick me for protecting you? Were we close before we died?"

"You had proven yourself to both him and the clan in your original lifetime. He was convinced you would be a dutiful guardian to me and an asset to the Meikai Army."

"But I wasn't," Kasahara concluded, maybe from Kagetora's dry tone.

"I never said that." There was a note of irritation creeping into Kagetora's voice. "As a matter of fact, your services were entirely satisfactory."

Kasahara didn't look convinced, but decided to drop the matter for now. There was something else on his mind. "And your son? Is it common for kanshousha to have children?"

Haruie was convinced her heart had stopped beating for a moment.

"No," Kagetora said. "But his is a different story and I won't tell it today."

"Weren't we supposed to come clean tonight?" Kasahara pressed.

"That doesn't mean you're entitled to know all my personal matters."

Kasahara seemed to be about to say something else.

_Oh, careful now. _

Kasahara seemed to sense danger here, for he fell quiet. It was just like before, Haruie thought wistfully even as she relaxed somewhat. Listening to those two was like watching a ride on a razorblade.

/\/

He didn't see much of Minako during the next couple of days – actually, he didn't see much of anybody except for the librarian at the reading hall in a public library close to his new apartment. Minako's revelations called for a sick leave from work for at least a few days, Kasahara had decided.

He had believed her at once.

It was completely bare of reason, but he was instantly convinced that she'd been telling the truth. The story of the ancient warlord who entrusted the vengeful spirits of his kind and enemies alike to his son who had come to a tragic end himself, the band of hand-picked warriors who would aid his mission… and how he could just _see_ it in Yuiko's and Sasaki-san's faces that they were the people Minako was talking about. She was telling nothing but the truth, however incredible it seemed.

There was still so much more to be discovered, though – impossible to quiz Minako on all the details of this historical past he was a part of. But as he realized, he did have an authority of a different kind on these happenings at his disposal. It wasn't until the weekend, though, that he was able to share his findings with the person he wanted to talk to about them the most.

She was on edge, he noticed as soon as he stepped through the door of her apartment. Of course, she had been expecting this visit – their last conversation could hardly have been the end of the matter. Apart from the past, there was also the present to discuss and what he was supposed to do now that he was in the know.

Still, when he met her apprehensive gaze he understood that nothing much had changed as far as her attitude towards him was concerned. He spoke out something that had been on his mind for quite some time now. "Our relationship wasn't a very good one, was it?"

"Let's say it was good, but difficult. I could never quite understand why my father gave the task of watching over me to you of all people."

Kasahara watched her "Oh? Why is that?"

"Because we were enemies during our first lives," was the simple answer.

"Yeah," he sighed, "I already figured that much from what I read."

/\/

Kagetora frowned. "From what you read?" he asked over his shoulder.

Kasahara nodded. "I went to a public library to look up some things you told me about. Once I started, I was barely able to stop reading." He half-turned in his seat on the couch to face Kagetora's profile. "It seems so strange. I'm learning all these things for the first time – the first time as far as I remember of course. But I've been there. I spoke to all those people and I participated in those wars…"

"So you did," Kagetora said in a dry tone of voice.

"Actually, there wasn't that much about Naoe Nobutsuna in the books, so I decided to concentrate on your historical self instead. I found out, though, that Nobutsuna was apparently killed during a quarrel about money."

"What," Kagetora interrupted, somewhat scandalized. "No! As far as I know, there was a conflict among Kagekatsu's followers – between those who had been on his side all along and those who joined in later by betraying me."

"A conflict about money," Kasahara insisted.

"About honour. About recognition and… and yes, about reward as well."

"Great. So I was a nitpicker even then."

Kagetora shook his head. Maybe Kasahara was right. Maybe they'd been making things up in their minds, entertaining delusions of grandeur about their own importance and the importance of their stupid little wars… When in reality, their grievances had been completely profane.

"Was I angry about dying like that?" Kasahara asked in a tone that suggested he already believed to know the answer.

"So angry. We all were angry about how we died – and when."

"Why you? There was nothing shameful in your death, was there? You ended things yourself. By the standards of that time, that would have been completely honourable."

"It was the one thing I did right after my failure in everything else was complete."

_What an outlandish conversation_, Kagetora couldn't help thinking. And with Naoe Nobutsuna of all people. Of course, Kasahara was completely detached from all the emotional complications that came with memorizing these events. He could reflect on Kagetora's suicide in all innocence. And Kagetora wasn't going to shatter that innocence by throwing the wrongs of the past into his unsuspecting face.

"And so you weren't very pleased when your father picked me to look out for your safety."

"I trusted his judgement more than I trusted my own." _Do I still? At least where Naoe is concerned? _

"But he never explained to you why he chose me?"

"No," Kagetora answered curtly then added in a slightly curious tone: "Maybe he explained it to you."

"Who knows? Maybe I'll remember someday."

"Maybe."_ If I died – who knows what would happen to the barrier in your mind? Apart from that I can't see myself letting that happen… It's for your own good, believe me – among other things. _

Kasahara didn't notice his tone. "I'd like that, I believe," he confessed. "It's very interesting to look at these past events from a personal perspective. A lot of assumptions proved wrong already – like history always being written by the victors."

"What makes you say that?"

"The historians pretty much agree on Kagekatsu having been a humourless schemer with a stick up his ass – excuse me – while his adoptive brother is unanimously described as sagacious, beautiful and noble-minded."

Heat rose into his cheeks, he couldn't help it. He cleared his throat. "A lot of people were dissatisfied with him for relinquishing Echigo," he tried to qualify the less than flattering image of his brother later generations had painted. "His later failures probably shaped people's view on him."

"One of the books also mentioned that Kagekatsus's name before he became Kenshin's son by adoption was Nagao Kiheji. Is that where your kid's name comes from?"

"Right."

"So you two weren't always quarrelling? Things must have been good between you before Kenshin's death."

"Good to excellent. They would have continued to be if it hadn't been for certain people." Naoe Nobutsuna being the key figure among those, he added sourly in thought. But as usual, this wasn't Kasahara's fault. Now whom was he going to vent his four-hundred year old anger against, Kagetora wondered slightly uneasy.

"You became friends immediately when you came to Echigo?"

"Yes, at once. It was the first time I got to be someone's older brother. I was the youngest of us Hōjō brothers and Takeda's sons were older than me as well."

"That's historically correct then? That you were with the Takeda?"

Kagetora nodded.

"Records differ on that point, you know."

"I know."

"And the fight?" Kasahara shifted on the couch to get a better look at his face. "The famous fight between Takeda Shingen and Uesugi Kenshin, when Shingen allegedly had to defend himself with a fan? Did it actually happen like this?"

Kagetora couldn't help it: he laughed. "Yes, it happened. I was nearby." It was one of those events that seemed funny in retrospect although at the time it happened he had been rather frightened. Also, it had been the first time he had laid eyes on his later adoptive father.

_The horses' bridles clinking as they were stamping on the muddy ground. The attackers were quickly surrounded by the Takeda men, but then the central figure broke from the group and bore down on their lord with the speed of a hawk in flight. _

_A choked cry broke from Kōsaka's throat, frightening Saburō more than anything else. It was the first and last time that he ever saw his mentor lose countenance. _

_With his men too far away from him or engaged in combat with Uesugi soldiers, it was sheer quick-wittedness that saved Shingen's life when he brought up the iron fan just in time to block Kenshin's blade._

Kasahara was watching him intently. "They actually dragged you to the battlefield? To Kawanakajima? How old were you at all?"

"Nine, I believe. It was pretty soon after my arrival in Kai. And I wasn't on the battlefield – I was in the Takeda headquarters which _became _the battlefield when Kenshin and some of his generals decided to storm it."

He became aware that Kasahara was still watching him intently. "That must have been hard for such a small child." The man's voice was soft as if trying to console him for hurts he had suffered four-hundred years ago. "Facing war so young and all alone among strangers."

It was a strange feeling – receiving consolation for hurts suffered four-hundred years ago. And from the most unlikely of sources, too, he mused. In the past, Naoe had expressed his regret about the wrongs of the past several times – castigated himself even more often, probably. But he had never actually showed pity. He'd always been Kagetora's strictest critic – unable, Kagetora thought, to see the bruises underneath the skin.

They were both naïve in a way, he realized. Naoe about the image of strength and invincibility he had of Kagetora, Kasahara about his addressing his vulnerability so innocently.

"It was common then to send children away to allies – or enemies. I don't think my relatives saw any wrong in that."

"Not even your mother?"

Kagetora hesitated. "I wouldn't know. She died early, you see. I was sent to Soun temple in Hakone when I was but four years old and she had died by then. To be honest, I hardly remember her."

Which was a pity in more ways than one. He had no idea of what a mother should be like, at least not from his own experience. Maybe Kiheiji was suffering from that lack of knowledge.

There was no sense in asking himself time and again at which point his life had taken a wrong turn – at Samegao, at his falling out with Kagekatsu, at his being sent away by his clan or at his birth already. A bad omen, his eldest brother dying during his mother's last pregnancy, leaving the Hojo at the hands of Ujimasu eventually.

Kasahara hadn't averted his gaze. His eyes were very gentle with something not quite like pity – sympathy, interwoven with admiration. "… I'd very much like to kiss you again. Would that be possible?"

Kagetora froze. Again, he hadn't seen it coming. A curse against himself shot through his mind. They weren't on his territory here, he thought. These things between men and women… he simply didn't know what to expect. Revisiting the past on so many layers hadn't exactly been helping matters, either.

His silence was interpreted as affirmation.

An arm sneaked around his waist and gently pulled him backwards until he was in Kasahara's lap. Even while his blood thundered in his ears, Kagetora couldn't help notice the effortless grace of that movement, its elegance so completely opposed to his own awkward stiffness.

He could feel his fingers claw into the fabric of the armrest.

Kasahara's lips were warm and soft against his own. Kagetora stopped breathing, every fibre of his body hyper-alert as the man's warm scent filled his nostrils. There was something tangy and citrusy about it. His focus swam.

It was over quickly enough. Leaning back, Kasahara laughed softly.

"What?" Kagetora asked, slightly dizzy. His arms and back hurt from the effort it had cost him not to jump up and run for it.

"This must be so much more strange to you than it is to me. After all, you've known me for centuries and now we are here and – " He smiled in a way that made Kagetora's heart ache in spite of the still uncomfortable closeness, full of innocence and trust.

"Sometimes I think I never truly knew you," he answered feeling that he had never spoken more accurate words.

"Because of this?" Kasahara cast a quick glance at their intertwined fingers. "I never showed any sign that I was infatuated with you?"

Kagetora was sure his heart had missed a beat. There was no way he could answer that question. There had been signs right from the start, but Naoe had always been much too much intimidated by him to ever voice his desire openly. Kagetora had used this against him time and again.

But Kasahara had no such inhibitions. Even though he knew now of their relationship as daimyo and retainer, he had never experienced it first-hand. Never bowed, never kneeled, never lost out to him. He didn't even feel he had to somehow overthrow him and gain the upper hand.

And as a result, Kagetora came to understand, _he _didn't have to hold him down, either.

_I pose no threat to him, that's... pleasant. _

"Well, if I was, I probably would have kept it to myself," Kasahara answered his own question from earlier. "I must have been completely in awe of you."

Kagetora shook his head in disbelief that this was happening.

"I mean it," Kasahara emphasized. "Holding you like this, I can feel how fragile you are and I could easily be led to believe this extends to your mind also. But your eyes, they say something different. It's written there that you are warrior – a supernaturally gifted one, at that."

"Doesn't the thought trouble you that this femininity is most likely a temporary thing? That I am really a man?"

Kasahara seemed to ponder this idea for a moment, then shook his head. "No. It fits you."

A nice change, Kagetora thought, from the much-heard opinion that any man as "beautiful" as him rather should have been born a woman…

"It's probably part of what makes you special," Kasahara continued. "You've been in battles. In real fights, hand-to-hand combat, not those modern ones where somebody just pushes a button and miles away people die in thousands." They both fell silent for a moment, remembering the war dead – a past closer than the bloody battles of the Sengoku era. "You went through all these hardships –"

"And you were there, by my side," Kagetora murmured without thinking.

The remark seemed to please Kasahara. "From the moment I first came to in Aso without knowing who I was, I always felt that there was some kind of important obligation, something or someone I needed to take care of by all measures. I understand now. That was you." The words held a solemn earnestness. "And it makes perfect sense. I understand now why I always felt I was neglecting some kind of important duty and that my life was lacking guidance. If it's true what you all say – that Uesugi Kenshin gave me the task of watching over you – then I've found what was missing now."

Kagetora could feel a shiver run down his spine at those words. Again, as before when Kasahara kissed him he didn't know whether that was a positive or a negative feeling. "We haven't spoken yet about how to go on from here. It's a lot to take in so you –"

"It's my task," Kasahara interrupted. "I don't want to give it up to anybody else, even if I'm probably not up to it as I used to be." He frowned, self-doubt written all over his handsome face. As a matter of fact, Kagetora believed him to be quite capable of using Naoe's powers after that display a few nights ago.

Kasahara looked up to him, then tightened the grip of his arm around Kagetora's waist. "But I want to learn everything that's necessary to protect you as I did before."

Kagetora's head was spinning. From his own free will, Kasahara had decided to take on the burden placed on him by Kenshin lifetimes ago. Without even knowing, without remembering the ancient warlord, he accepted that obligation – for his, Kagetora's, sake this time. Like hypnotized, Kagetora stared into the eyes of his retainer.

"Will you teach me?" Kasahara asked.

"Yes."

/\/

A moderate breeze made the waters of Lake Ashi ripple under the darkening sky. As evening fell, the last day-trippers and fishermen went home, their voices fading away in the distance. The small boats lay on the shore and quietness settled over the lake and the surrounding forests. Close by, the hooting of an owl could be heard.

The one they called the patron deity of the North took in this picture of peace. It filled him with a profound understanding of how many souls weren't ready to part with this even after their deaths.

_It is beautiful, this world of the living. _

His gaze travelled over the glistening surface of the lake. _Don't you agree, Ujiyasu-dono?_

/\/

**Author's Note: **I'm alive! And OMG PLOT! I can hardly believe it myself ^_~

I'm really, really sorry for abandoning this story for so long. Yesterday – out of the blue – this fandom gripped me again and I managed to finish this chapter today within a few hours. Incredible.

Anyway, since this is such a fatherhood story, I couldn't very well keep Kagetora's own father out of it. Both of them, actually ^_^

**Next chapter: **"Are you still taking those contraception pills?"


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